City Is At War
by TheHopefulWriter
Summary: Your past will always come back to haunt you...A story of a little girl lost and a boy who just wanted to rule the world. Joker/Harley. Rated M for violence, drug reference, drinking, and sexual situations.
1. Sunset Soon Forgotten

_be this sunset soon forgotten  
your brothers left here shaved and crazy  
we've learned to hide our bottles in the well  
and what's worth keeping, sun still sinking  
down and down  
once again  
down and down_  
**gone again**

-Iron and Wine; Sunset Soon Forgotten

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

She had made news worldwide on multiple occasions. She had two different sides to her, one was the good, the other the bad. Her chaotic ways had outshone her once beautiful heart and soul. This woman was older than most, but she still maintained to live, even though she was so close to vanishing off the face of the earth. This woman, is named Gotham City.

Millions live inside her city lines, criminals and cops, sinners and saints. The hero of this woman is a man named Batman, the masked vigilante. The press had discussed whether he was a sinner or a saint, one press company said saint, a bright shining light in this hell hole. Others said sinner, promoting anarchy, saying that he was higher than the police was.

A woman looked at the newspaper kiosk, reading of the Batman. They said he was an amazing man, who was a true credit to our community. The woman sighed, shaking her head. _This city is going crazy_, she thought. Everything was topsy turvy. One day, the Chief of Police says Batman is going down, the next press conference, he admits receiving helped from this "menace of society." The woman set down the paper and continued on her way. This woman, is known as Harley Quinn.

Winter was setting in, which meant darkness would be coming quicker. The last thing she ever wanted was to be alone in Gotham City, at night. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as she turned the corner. Her long blond locks flew behind her like wheat blowing in the wind, her crystal blue eyes sparkled as the sun gently hit them, most would call her a doll, a true gorgeous girl. She clutched her large, black purse with her, which carried every weapon known to man. Switchblades, guns, pepper gel, brass knuckles, you name it, she had it.

A violent wind howled through the air and Harley shuttered, pulling her jacket towards her, and walking faster. The sun was setting quickly; the worst time to be out alone was coming fast. This is why she begged her boss for better hours, she asked over and over again, but he continued to refuse her. Harley gave up eventually, just living with the hours she had. Because, work was work, right? She had a hard time finding this job, the last thing she needed was to get fired.

As she rounded Magnolia and Sixth, Harley's ears met the familiar thump of techno music, and building vibrations. Her workplace stuck out like a sore thumb, unfortunately for her. The building was stark black, contrasting against the brown and red bricked buildings surrounding it. In big, red neon lights, read _La Mia Bella._ Men were standing behind a red velvet divider, and as she approached, whistles and cat calls clung to the air. Though Harley ignored them, they made her feel even more ashamed than she was already.

She approached the large black man before her. "Hey Rick, how's the wife?"

Rick smiled, revealing his crooked teeth. Rick had been working here as long as Harley had, which is too long. He was a friendly man, with a dainty housewife who made her living as a painter. Harley had met Susan a time or two, she seemed nice enough. "Just fine, Miss Quinn. You have a pleasant night."

"You too, Rick." Harley said over her shoulder. As she walked through the double doors, the familiar scenery overwhelmed her. The club had been designed by some "cool" kid. The furniture was black, the tables the neon red. The bar was see through, so you were able to pick out drinks. In the center was a stage jutting out, in the center of that stage, was a tall golden pole. A girl named Cherry danced to the familiar techno music, she was one of those punk chicks.

Harley walked down the hallway, to the right, lay a familiar red doorway that read, "Dressing Room." Harley opened the door, and was greeted with a plethora of things. Women clucking around like chickens, looking for this or that. Bare, clothed, and barely clothed alike put on make up, did each others hair, nails, you name it. The scene reminded Harley of some type of unusual beauty pageant. As she followed the long mirror, she read the names.

Every time a woman was hired at _La Mia Bella_, they were given a section of mirror. The woman was required to write her name on her section of mirror, where ever it may be. The tradition though, was that it must be written in lipstick. ''Harley'' was spelled in perfect calligraphy above her section, in bright red. Harley placed her bag on top of the counter, and pulled out the items. A flat iron, a make-up bag, her outfit for the night, etc.

With a flick of the wrist, Harley's eyes became catlike, her lips become red, her hair becomes straight. In a regretful stance, Harley puts on a set of lingerie. Black and red lace scarcely covers her body. Her heels give her four more inches in height, which she doesn't need already, being tall enough.

Harley was never a religious person, in fact if there was a God, she believe he hated her. Or_ she_ hated her. Whatever, it didn't matter to her anymore. Harley's hands quickly made a cross over her chest. Her made up eyes fluttered shut, the noise slowed, she wasn't there anymore, but in another place in her mind.

_God forgive me._

Harley walked behind the curtain, where Talulah Rigby, also known as Lulu Hepburn, was on stage. Talulah was _La Mia Bella_'s pin-up queen. Harley and Talulah had been the best of friends since she started working in this shit hole. Talulah had been working here for ten long years. Ten years of taking off your clothes for men, ten years of being disgraced. But none of it had seemed to bother her, she almost enjoyed it. Harley didn't know how, every night after work her showers were so hot they burned her skin.

After the closing numbers on the jazz keys, the crowd went wild as Talulah took a bow. The red curtains closed, and Talulah quickly gathered her money and ran to Harley. Talulah was indeed, a queen. Her chocolate curls fell on her hair perfectly, her doe brown eyes always shined with joy. She may be tiny, but Talulah had the most fire Harley had every _seen_ in a woman. The girls embraced, Talulah fanned her money.

"Got a little over two hundred! I'll tell you honey, I am on fire tonight!" Talulah's charming laughed bounced off the walls and into Harley's ears. The blond smiled at her friend, fidgeting with her hair and her top, if you could consider it a top, more like a scrap of lace…

Talulah rolled her eyes. "Honey, don't be so nervous. You do amazing every time. Just…Just don't think about it, okay? They're not even there."

Harley nodded, little tears threatening to spill over her eyes. Harley usually was able to keep it together, but every blue moon, that shame and guilt would erupt, and all Harley could do is cry for hours. Talulah gave her a tight hug, and as the DJ called Harley's name, she quickly composed herself, giving a small smile to Talulah.

"Make me proud honey! Get me my mon-ey!" With the last syllables, Talulah wiggled her hips. Harley laughed aloud as she walked over to the pole. The velvet curtain blocked her view for only a moment. Harley's heels clicked together, just like Dorothy in _The Wizard of Oz._ _There's no place like home_, she thought. Her mind repeated that phrase over and over until the curtains raised and the blinding lights filled her blue eyes. The crowd gave a light applause as the hip hop beat filled her ears, and the rapper's lyrics filled Harley's ears.

_You ready?! Let's go!  
Yeah, for those of you that want to know what we're all about  
It's like this y'all (c'mon!)  
_

_This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill  
Fifteen percent concentrated power of will  
Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain  
And a hundred percent reason to remember the name!_

Harley's body was lost in the beat, her mind far in the music. This song reminded her of a girl she once knew. A girl who was going to change the world through song, who would sing of the world with heavy electric guitar beats and lyrics that would blow anyone's mind. This girl was Harley. As her body danced, her mind was far gone. She went into her head, she remembered the time she was running through the woods, playing tag with her best friend. The woods were about a mile from their homes, but they didn't care, if they could get away from their parents, the better it was. Her dad was a rolling stone, her mom had a habit. His daddy was a drinker, his momma didn't care about him. They had been neighbors and friends for seventeen years.

As the final beats stopped, the crowd went wild, throwing money on the stage eagerly. The curtain dropped, and Harley's eyes leaked over with tears. She collected her clothes and money quickly, running back to the dressing room and into the bathroom. She sobbed, curling into a ball, letting her shame consume her frame. Someone opened the door, a petite girl in a pin-up Navy costume. Talulah ran over to Harley and hugged her, allowing the young girl to ruin her outfit.

Across the club, were two men in a private booth. The first man's hair was parted to the side, completely gray. His thick Italian accent was charming, his suit in neat proportion, he looked like a well cut man with a good job. Not the type who would go to a strip club, from the first look. But when one began to speak to this man, they realized he was a sleaze ball. This man, is Salazar Maroni.

The man across of him is the exact opposite. His hair is green and stringy, not groomed at all. His suit is a tacky purple and green pattern; his shoes have been through hell and back. His face is caked with war paint, as his hired goons had called it. He sat there, listening to Maroni go on and on about finances, deals, and possible outcomes of this ''peace treaty'' he wanted him to sign. The Joker sighed, taking a sip of his rum and Coke. The Joker's eyes began to wonder out of sheer boredom, this guy and his figures were just too dull.

The girl on stage was some brunette. She was short and wore a Navy costume. He saw where she had forgotten to apply tanning lotion, and the scar on her left knee. Her face was too round, her lips too thin. He watched her as she shook like a belly dancer to some oldies song. She was a good dancer, he had to give her that, though he really wasn't into brown hair… As she finished, the crowd went wild and the DJ gave an applause to, "the fabulous Lulu Hepburn."

The Joker looked around the club. In general it was just a slum hole where men fell into hypnosis by women with no shirts on. He smirked, rolling his eyes at the pathetic excuses for men. Where did there balls go? He had to give them some slack though, The Joker himself had been a player in his early days, but a lot can happen in a span of five years…

The DJ announced some other broad on stage, but he didn't pay attention, he just stretched and yawned, waiting for Maroni to realize that he wasn't listening to a single word that came out of his damn mouth. A familiar hip hop beat blasted through the speakers, the vibrations shook the room. This girl had a good taste in music. Slowly, his eyes drifted to the stage, and he couldn't believe what he saw.

Dirty blond hair fell on her shoulders, the blue from her eyes could be seen across the room. Her chest was full, her stomach was tight, her legs continued to go on and on…Jesus, did they go on forever? Her full red lips were in a natural pout, her arms were wrapped around the gold pole, and one long leg hooked its way onto it. She moved gracefully, beautifully. My God she was _amazing._ He couldn't help but his mouth to go slack, hell, he didn't _know_ it was slack. He was hypnotized like all the poor men in the room.

Maroni realized The Joker wasn't listening to anything he was saying, but looking on stage. Maroni's piercing blue eyes drifted to the stage and smirked. All night, not one woman had caught this freak's fancy, and now he was hooked. As the girl's act ended, and the curtain closed, The Joker's daze went away, and he turned back to Maroni. He indicated to the stage.

"You like her?"

The Joker gave a shrug of his shoulders and leaned back on his chair, his eyes still gazing on the empty stage.

"Her name's Harley Quinn. She's one of the more…interesting girls at the club. She does…private meetings if you're interested." Maroni said in a non cliché tone.

The Joker thought about this. Sex was the weakest thing a man could do, it showed lack of power, and human qualities. He never put his dick in his business, but damn, this girl was fucking _gorgeous_. His fingers drummed on the table before him, his mind caught in his thoughts. When was the last time he got laid? Three years ago, with some mob whore. She was disgusting really, with a fake tan and tits, but hell, pussy is pussy. "Harley Quinn, quite the…unique name." He mumbled quietly.

"She's a pretty unique girl." Maroni said with a charming grin. "Would you like to meet her?"

The Joker shrugged once again, but Maroni saw the look in his eyes. Maroni pulled out his phone and sent a text message to the bartender. He smirked, looking at the crazed man before him. "She'll be here with a round of whiskey in a moment."

Harley slowly applied the last of her eyeliner, her smeared make up washed away and forgotten. Talulah sat on the toilet, smiling sweetly. As Harley put on her red lipstick, Talulah placed a gentle hand on hers. "There we go, all better. You sure you still want to be here, Harley? You can take off tonight, I owe you a shift anyway-"

Harley shook her head. "No, no. I need the money, my rent's gone up again. I swear to God, I'm going to kill that bastard." Harley growled, throwing her lipstick in her bag. Her landlord had raised her rent an extra one hundred dollars, every penny counted these days. Not to mention Harley's depression pills didn't come cheap, they were highly expensive, but worked with little side effects. Talulah gave a laugh, it sounded like wind chimes.

"I know how you feel honey, we'll kill him together, then we can murder my landlord."

"The perfect crime." Harley responded with an evil glint in her eyes.

The girls laughed in unison and exited the bathroom and into the club, linked arm and arm. Talulah dragged her over to the bar, considering she needed a shot. Talulah had a bit of an alcohol problem, well, a _lot_ of an alcohol problem. Harley always tried to stop her, but she always refused. Talulah had a rough life, one Harley was surprised anyone could live and be as happy as her. Harley sighed as Talulah allowed a small glass of clear liquid to slide down her throat.

"Harley! Get your ass over here and get these to table ten!" Brandon shouted. Brandon was a punk hipster who unfortunately, Harley had the pleasure of knowing. His jeans were to tight, his shirts to colorful, and hair to outrageous. Harley sighed, taking two glasses of what looked like whiskey and gave a smile to Talulah, who raised her second glass of vodka at her. Harley sighed, shaking her head. She had encouraged her a thousand times to get help, but she never stopped.

Table ten was a private booth, and Harley began to wonder who exactly was at the table. Mostly celebrities and the boss with his clients or guests. The boss always ''entertained'' his guests, with a girl of their choice. Harley had been this girl a time or two, but not all the time. The worst part of taking off your clothes for money, was eventually having sex for money. Every time, Harley felt like she was going to vomit the entire time a man used her body. It made her sick just thinking about it, after it happened, Harley would cry and take a shower that would cause the normal person to cry out in pain. But for Harley, they didn't make water hot enough.

As Harley approached Maroni, he smiled at her. "Ah, Harley. Just the girl I wanted to see." Even though Maroni was a scum bag, he was a scum bag that provided her with work, so she sucked it up and smiled, placing the whiskey on the table. She took a seat on the edge, allowing herself to be in full view. She saw the form of another man on the right of her, the shadows and lights only allowed her to see the outline of him. But she could see his gloves, bright purple. Her face showed curiosity, who wore purple gloves?

But she turned her curiosity into seductiveness. "Boys, how are you doing tonight?"

Maroni smiled. "Just fine. Harley, this is my associate, The Joker."

Harley offered her hand. "Charmed, Mr. Joker. Might I say, what a curious name you have." His gloved hand held hers, and brought it back to the shadows. She felt lips connect with the top of it, but not only lips, something on the side of his face. It felt like severe scar tissue. She eliminated the thought, nothing that grisly could be on a man's face. She pulled back her hand, but the puzzle had more pieces. A red lip print was on her hand, with white smudged on the outside.

"I've been told I'm a…_curious_ person, Miss Quinn." Harley's hair stood on the back of her neck, goose bumps shot along her arms. His voice was so _strange._ It was high pitched, whiney. It reminded her of the nerds who sat in the front of the class. But at the same time it was masculine and confident. The lights shifted, and Harley got a look at his face. She suppressed the look of surprise on her face. Ghastly white paint covered his entire face, charcoal was smeared under his eyes, with bright red smearing his face. But that wasn't the worst of it. Two scars marred his face in the shape of a forever smile, a Glasgow grin Harley remembered.

"I'm going to let you two get to know each other better. Have a good night." And with that, Maroni slipped out of the booth and walked away. Harley turned her body around, maneuvering herself to the strange man before her. Harley had never met such a character before in her life. It was so fascinating, but something lay underneath the paint and voice, a dangerous air surrounded this man. Though she was frightened, Harley knew what she had to do to survive. Harley leaned up against The Joker, her hands trailing down his arm.

"So Mr. Joker, what do you feel like doing tonight?" Harley murmured lowly.

The Joker gave a small growl. "What do _you _think?"

Harley grinned, her fingers beginning to wonder across his chest. The Joker's breathing began to increase slightly. "I think I have an idea. So, we might as well get business out of the way, hm?" The Joker's eyes closed slightly and he nodded. Harley smiled.

The Joker sighed, gazing at the girl. She looked about twenty six or twenty seven at the most. Her bare leg brushed against his clothed one, she started getting closer. "How much?" He whispered.

"Seven hundred." Harley said simply. The Joker smirked and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of one hundred dollar bills. Harley's eyes went wider than saucers. How much money does this guy carry on him? Harley reached over and gingerly took the money, counting it. One thousand dollars. Against her better judgment, she gave back three bills. The Joker pushed them in his pocket.

"There's a private room in the back…" Harley trailed off. Her hands began to wander more. She could feel the hard muscles in his arms and chest. She was happy to have a guy with muscle, it was better than some guy with a beer belly. Her leg found its way across his lap, she moved until she was straddling him. The Joker's heart fluttered, he hadn't been touched like this in a good while. His hands rested themselves on her hips, he remembered she suggested something.

"No, I have a car." He whispered huskily. Harley smirked, climbing off his lap to The Joker's displeasure. She wrapped her hand around his large one, threading her nimble fingers through his. Her heels clicked as she led him to the parking lot. The Joker trailed in the back, enjoying the view of her. She was almost as tall as him in those heels, but they made her legs look fucking _amazing._ He eyeballed her entire frame as they pair walked out into the cold night of the parking lot, Harley looked at him for guidance. The Joker led them over to a black car of some sort, it almost looked like a Volvo. He pulled a pair of keys from his pocket and unlocked the sleek car. Like a crazed gentleman, he opened the back door of the car, and Harley climbed in, turning on her back.

Harley spread her legs, and The Joker eagerly climbed in, shutting the door behind him. The freezing cold car caused Harley to shake, considering she was in nothing but a pair of lacy underwear. Teeth chattering and muscle trembling wasn't the best way to put the customer in the mood. The Joker laid on top of her, his weight pushing her in the seat, she gasped, remembering what it was like to have a man on top of her. His body heat began to warm her, that and the butterflies flapping all in her stomach, and the warmth starting in her belly. Harley arched her neck and spread her limbs slightly, waiting for him to attack some part first.

He ripped off his gloves with his teeth, and awkwardly removed his jacket, almost elbowing Harley in the process. He wondered if the car was the best idea… No matter, they were already here. The Joker's hand made its way into Harley's blond locks, curling slightly. His breathing became heavy as he leaned down and connected their lips. Harley's eyes almost popped out of her skull. Most men just go for the fucking and leave, no customer had _ever_ kissed her. She relaxed, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Harley felt something warm and wet slide across her cherry lips, and she eagerly parted them.

The Joker's mind was racing with all thoughts about her. The beginnings of an erection began to form in his pants, his other hand made its way behind her back, she arched slightly, allowing him to unhook her bra. The Joker ripped the flimsy material somewhere in the car. He had seen her naked on the stage, but nothing compared to this. Her breasts were full and round, with hard pink tips. He unconsciously licked his lips and bent his head down, licking it. Harley shut her eyes and turned her head, breathing hard. Her mind began to wander like it always did when she had to be with a man. She thought about the time she went to the beach. The endless blue ocean rocking gently, the hot sand melting between her toes, the seaweed that stuck to her leg. She remembered the sun warming on her back, the joy that she felt right then and there. Her memories trailed to the boy next door-

The Joker noticed she wasn't paying attention and he growled in aggravation. He was paying her, she should at least _pretend_ to be interested. He grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to look at him. Harley grunted, staring into his eyes. "You know, beautiful, I can take my business elsewhere." He said threateningly. In a fear of losing the money, Harley attacked his lips and moaned, pushing her body towards him. The Joker growled, pushing towards Harley.

His hands trailed over her breasts and towards her stomach. Harley's stomach trembled, a breathy moan escaping her full lips. When he came to her underwear, he didn't know how to get it off her. His fingers curled in the skimpy material and tugged. Harley heard-and felt-the material of her panties rip. She wanted to chew him out for the little stunt, but my God what a _rush_. She squirmed, gasping as the cold air hit her body.

The Joker's cock jerked, he couldn't take it anymore. If she was going to lay there, writhing and moaning, she was going to get what she wanted… The Joker's hands flew at his pants, quickly undoing his belt, and unzipping his pants. He tried to take his pants off, but gave up and just pushed them down, along with his boxers. Harley eagerly wrapped her legs around his waist and bucked, giving him a sexy smirk.

The Joker felt her wet entrance and groaned his head bowing. Steadying his arms above her head, he began to gently push himself inside her. Harley gasped, her back arching and her nails digging into her palms. The Joker growled, pushing himself inside her at a steady pace. Harley moaned as the heat began to consume every inch of her flesh. Her half lidded eyes stared at The Joker's, whimpering as he pushed himself to the hilt. The Joker could have exploded right then and there, she felt so…so _perfect._ He moaned slightly as he picked himself up on his arms and gave a test thrust, causing Harley to moan.

Harley quickly untied the tie that pushed against his neck. She began to unbutton his shirt, taking it off him. Her nails raked against his solid chest, and The Joker's eyes fluttered shut. Crime kept you fit, thank God. Harley pushed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck, nodding slightly. The Joker began to thrust evenly at first, but then gradually picking up a speed. With every rock of his hips, Harley's breathing increased, The Joker let out a small groan.

His breath fogged the freezing glass, Harley's hands slapped against the window in pleasure, her entire body arching. Each thrust was adding to the fire inside her, everything was surreal. Her breathing became moans as he increased his speed.

"Oh God." Harley moaned.

The Joker gave a throaty chuckle. "Not God, _Harley_."

Harley nodded, giving a small gasp as his hips angled. "Oh, _Joker_."

The Joker growled in pleasure, hearing his names fall from those gorgeous lips was a dream come true. Harley bit her lips as her nails began to dig into his back, her heel dug into his hips. His face faltered and he groaned, pounding his hips faster. Harley screamed, the pleasure coming faster than she expected. Her body was on fire, despite the freezing cold. She could feel the car rocking with every thrust of his hips.

Her moans were becoming more high pitched, it didn't take an idiot to figure out what was going to happen… Harley's body began to clench, slowly at first, but the spasms inside her became more frequent. Each one squeezed his cock tightly, and he couldn't help but let out a groan. He hated feeling weak, but god damn was this _good_.

"Ugh, fuck Mr. J." Harley murmured.

The name went right to The Joker's cock. Heat flushed through his frame and he gasped, nothing like that had ever given him such a rush. Harley's pussy began to clench him tightly, her face relaxed in an 'O' shape as a loud moan rang through her. The Joker pounded as fast as he could, his body trying to find release. As his hips began to falter and his cock began to spasm, the numbing euphoria washed over him with bright lights.

The two lay in his car, totally spent from their encounter. Harley was covered in sweat, hers and his alike. The Joker ran his hand through his messy hair, damn, that was good. No woman had brought him to an orgasm that quickly. Well, everyone but one… But there was no use thinking about her. The Joker pulled himself out of Harley, groaning at the loss. The two dressed quickly and awkwardly, asking for an article of clothing or two. Harley realized she didn't have any underwear.

"Mr. Joker?"

"Hm?"

"You…you ripped my underwear off me." Harley murmured in embarrassment. The Joker reached over to his boxers and handed them to her. She slipped them on, rolling them to fit her tiny waist. Harley opened the car door, the night air bringing an icy chill to her body. She was about to get out when his hand grabbed her arm. She looked into his deep, piercing eyes.

"We should do this again sometime, Harley Quinn." The Joker pulled out a card, handing it to her. Harley took the card from him daintily, and shut the car door, the sound echoing through the empty parking lot. Harley ran as fast as a woman could in high heels to the warmth of the club. As she entered, Harley took a look at the card, and the extra bills attached to it. On the card was a joker, laughing at her. There was no number on the card.


	2. Blocking Out the Friction

_I don't mind the weather  
I've got scarves and caps and sweaters  
I've got long johns under slacks for blustery days._

I think that it's brainless to assume that making changes to your window's view will give a new perspective.

-Death Cab For Cutie; Blocking Out the Friction

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley's balcony was her favorite part of the small apartment which she reside. It gave a view of the city, a _good_ view, one she had never seen. She could see the boats and fishermen bring in their catch, eager to sell it. Her eyes gazed upon small children collecting seashells, or young lovers hand in hand. Every morning she would curl up in the plastic chair, placing her coffee on the plastic table and watch the people go by. In fact, Harley could do this for hours on end. The breeze blew through her long locks, but her baggy sweatshirt had blocked out most of it. Her legs were clad in long sweatpants, her face contained no make up, and her hair was ratty from sleeping. On the table, lay an empty bottle of pills, the little orange tube which gave the last of Harley's medication.

It had been a week since she had encountered her mysterious customer. She had thought about him all week, his memory haunting her. She could see the paint on his face, the highness of his voice, all of it made her shake in fear. No one had ever affected her like this, except one man, but there was no use in thinking of him… Harley curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest, and just thought. A phone lay by her hands, and she wondered if she should even call her doctor. But it was the depression talking, she had decided. The dark circles under her eyes and the numbness of her face would make anyone be concerned for her.

Harley's fingers dialed the familiar number embedded into her brain. After a few rings, the receptionist picked up.

"New Hope Counseling Center, this is Denise, how may I help you?" A woman answered.

Harley sighed. "My name is Harley Quinzel, I need to schedule an appointment with Dr. Sides, my medication ran out…"

"Aright, just a moment." Harley heard the sound of keyboards being pounded and a sound of the computer. "There's no one listed under ''Harley Quinzel,'' ma'am."

She had asked the doctor multiple times to change her name in the computer, because she hated her real name, it reminded her of her childhood. "Try Eleanor Quinzel."

Harley heard the keys type and a more upbeat ding of the computer. "Well, what do you know? There's an appointment opening in an hour, I can squeeze you in there."

"That would be great." Harley murmured. After exchanging polite goodbyes, Harley hung the phone up and put on some real clothes. She turned off all the lights and locked the door behind her. As she walked down the steps, the eerie echo made her mind sharp of her surroundings. Harley simply hailed a cab, climbed in, and started her way to the busy streets of New York.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

People had always fascinated Harley, especially just every day individuals. There were so many of them, in so many different creeds, colors, belief ideals. It was staggering to her. As she waited in the tacky office, she saw a balding man reading his newspaper, a woman in a pair of sweatpants with no make up and black circles under her eyes, a pleasant looking woman had a gothic boy next to her listening to music through a pair of headphones. The magazine Harley read was just a cover, she enjoyed looking at life up close, and not at celebrity nonsense.

She heard a nurse call her name and she walked past her, already knowing where to go. As she rapped on the office door and heard a familiar voice say ''Come in,'' Harley realized that this would be a long hour. The office had a couch and chair in leather coating, beside it was an oak wood desk, with a swivel chair beside it, holding a familiar hefty man. Dr. Henry Sides was a man of sixty or so, who was as big as Santa. His white hair and mustache combo reminded Harley of a classic doctor. His thick glasses and friendly face always made her feel at home. Harley took a seat in the leather sofa as Dr. Sides turned to her, crossing his hands.

"Hey Harley, what's up?" That was another thing about the good doctor, he never asked, ''how are you feeling?'' or ''what's troubling you?'' Just a simple, ''what's up?'' made Harley feel better that she had to see a man about her depression. Harley crossed her legs and scratched her neck.

"I'm fine Dr. Sides. I ran out of my medication." Harley pulled out the orange tube and placed it on the table.

"I can see that." Dr. Sides pulled out a medical pad and a black pen. "Tell me, is it working well?"

Harley nodded. "Just fine. Some stomach cramps or a headache every blue moon, nothing too serious."

Dr. Sides smiled as he pulled out a yellow legal pad and scratched something down. "So how was work this week?"

Harley gulped. She told Dr. Sides the truth, that she danced for money and did some extra on the side. What else could she do? Lie to him? Never, Dr. Sides was a good man. Harley fidgeted with the sleeves on her shirt. "Good. I made a good sum. I…uh…did more for a customer."

Dr. Sides stared at her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harley's mouth opened, and word vomit poured out. "He was so…dangerous. And different. I've never met someone like him. I…I had a dream about him."

"Is that so?" Dr. Sides murmured, scrawling black across the yellow.

"Yes, he…we were in a room, and he was talking to me, but I couldn't understand him. Everything started to melt away until nothing. Then I was alone."

Dr. Sides looked at Harley with large blue eyes. "How's Cynthia doing?"

Harley took a deep breath. "Cynthia is doing well, I sent most of the money for her college fund. It was almost a thousand dollars… That's why I don't regret it."

Dr. Sides wrote some more and Harley fidgeted nervously. She didn't mind Dr. Sides, but every time he wrote something down, she felt as if she was some lab rat being dissected piece by piece. "Have you thought about Jack lately?"

The very name made her stomach clench and heart pound. A thousand memories flashed before Harley's eyes, every one bittersweet in some way. She clutched her knees to her chest and stared out the window, her eyes watering.

"I always do." She said in a whisper. "I think about him every time I dance. He's in my dreams, on my mind. There isn't a day when I _don't_ think of him…why do you think it is, that I think of him so much?"

Dr. Sides took a deep breath and looked at the young girl. "I believe it's like losing a brother or relative, he was with you his entire life, and in a flash he was gone. Because you don't know whether he's alive or dead, deep down your mind constantly wonders. In my opinion…it's like having someone be kidnapped, and never to be heard of again."

Harley nodded, a single tear streaking down her pale face. "That makes sense."

Unknown to Harley, someone was visiting her apartment.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Night had just set in, the worst time to be at night. The ghost of a figure walked down the alley, the familiar whistle of _Maggie's Farm_ falling from his painted lips. He was twirling an old pocket watch, like in the movies. The golden clock circled round and round his slender fingers as he walked his relaxed pace. No one would dare approach him, he looked too…_threatening._ The man smirked as he crossed the back path to the alley. He had his men watching her the past two days. Where she went, who she saw, what places she liked to go, all that good stuff. He stopped at a worn down building, the fire escape catching his eye. He placed the watch into his left pocket and jumped up, catching the rusted ladder in his grip. With all his strength he began to climb up, grunting as his weight caught up to him. Eventually he reached the bottom of his escape, and began to walk up to the fifth level.

Her room was on the fire escape, lucky for him, or he would have to scale the building…When he jerked at her window, the thing wouldn't budge. He sighed as he pulled out a screwdriver, slowly but surely, he began to twist the bolts out of the window. As the window began to collapse, he pushed it in, and it clattered slightly. The apartment was dark with no signs of life, which was good, because that meant Paul got to keep his head. The Joker saw the outlining of a lamp and blindly reached over, pulling the string on it. The apartment was a dump, enough said. He strolled over lightly, picking his way through magazines and book that was marked. It was a romance. He noticed a sliding glass door and curiously walked over. The view was of the beach, and though he couldn't see much, he could see the last sun rays shining over the black ocean.

Like a fascinated two year old, he began to roam. His feet landed him in the kitchen, with a bowl of fresh fruit tempting him. He took a red apple and bit into it, the juices rushing into his mouth. He ate it noisily as he walked casually through the area. A white door lay next to the kitchen and he walked in. The bedroom had a twin sized bed and television on the floor. On the bed side table was a lamp and a large quantity of books were scattered across the floor. A clothes hamper lay empty, and on the wall beside the bed, were hundreds of pictures. The Joker walked over to the bed and turned on the lamp as faces and places came alive. He noticed some where of that girl at the club, the brunette. Some looked like they came from the bus, the snapshots of downtown. He saw Harley making a stupid face with the brunette, who had on a pair of large sunglasses.

Thousands of pictures didn't entertain him for long, as The Joker walked over to the bed side table. He opened the beaten drawer, and noticed papers filling it. Letters, books, journals, you name it, it was in there. The Joker dug through it. Personal letters in pink envelope, a camera, a book on how to be happy, a pen, some blank notebook paper. As he dug to the bottom, he pulled out a scrapbook. The Joker took a large bite of apple as he threw it on the bed and took a seat, opening it. When he saw the picture, his eyes went wide and he had to dislodge the apple that paused in his throat.

Because there, was a picture of Ellie Quinzel with her arm around Jack Naiper.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The front door closed behind Harley with a quiet shut. Her fingers felt blindly for the plastic switch to turn on the light. The soft glow of a bulb suddenly popped up and she sighed, lying against the wall, medication in hand. She smiled as a month's worth of little black pills rattled around as she shook the bottle. Harley had a spring in her step as she walked to the kitchen, and immediately paused when she noticed an apple was missing. There were seven apples when she left, one red apple on the top. The fruit was not there. Harley's eyebrows knit together as her heart acted like it was going to jump out of her chest. She quickly pulled out a knife from the block and slowly walked to her room, opening the door quickly.

She flicked the light on. Nothing was in there, and everything seemed to be in order. Harley checked the entire apartment top to bottom, pulling out drawers, looking under blankets, in closets, but nothing was to be found. She smiled, shaking her head. Her imagination had gotten to her, there was nothing there. Harley must have simple eaten the apple and forgotten. A sudden knock on the door made her jump, she had to remind herself it was nothing. She quickly walked to the door and unlocked it. Behind the door was a delivery man with a package in his hand.

"Eleanor…Quinzeel?" The postman inquired.

"Quinzel. And yes, that would be me." Harley opened the door more. The package was rectangular and thin. The postman looked like a kid, maybe eighteen with bright red hair under a _FedEx_ cap. His nametag read the name Clark.

Clark handed the package to her and turned on his heel. "Have a pleasant evening, ma'am." He strolled down the hallway, and then something odd got to Harley.

"Wait!"

The boy turned around.

"Don't I need to sign for this?"

"Um…no. Goodnight." The boy ran off. Harley shut the door slowly, locking it behind her. What a peculiar young man… Harley shrugged and placed the package on her dining room table. Her name was stamped in small ink on the front, but there was no return address. How strange… Harley grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the tape off the box. Inside, was a black dress. Harley blinked, picking the silken material up. There were no straps, the fabric was wrinkled slightly, the length suggested it would go to mid-thigh. It was so…_beautiful._

Inside was a letter with her name scratched across in red ink. Harley placed the dress on the table and picked up the envelope, opening it.

_I told you we would be doing business again, didn't I?_

_A car will pick you up in two hours, a black Mercedes, outside your apartment. Wear this dress. See you at eight._

_-Mr. J_

To say her heart stop would be an understatement. Harley's fingers allowed the letter to slip through in numb shock. She barely made it into her chair as she leaned her head in her hand. Jesus, he was _serious_ when he said they would be doing business again. Now he wanted her to go with him, in a black Mercedes, to God knows where. She sighed, shaking her head. For the money, right? The more money she had, the better. Harley looked at the dress, and suddenly felt that cold feeling in her stomach. She knew it would be coming off in a few hours. With a last sigh, Harley picked up the dress and walked into her bathroom, closing the door behind her.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The coat she wore was the only thing that blocked her legs from the violent winds that continued to persist. Harley was shaking like a tree in fall. Her black heels were already making her feet hurt, the lipstick on her lips made them feel dry, and her hair was getting blown all over the place. It took her forever to achieve the perfect curls… She blew hot breath into her hands to keep them warm as she waited outside the apartment. A pocketknife lay in her jacket pocket just in case…

Suddenly a black car ripped down the street loudly, almost screaming for the police to find them. It came to a screeching halt in front of Harley, who almost jumped back in surprise. The black windows of the Mercedes rolled down, to reveal a buff, bald dude with a bunch of tattoos. She could not see the driver.

"Get in." He said in a gruff voice.

Harley ran over to the car and opened the back seat, climbing inside. The air was warm and she sighed in relief, putting her hands near the vent. The car sped off again, Harley's head hitting the top of the vehicle. The buff guy laughed and Harley glared daggers at him. She quickly put on her seatbelt and leaned into the leather seating, watching the world go by. The bright lights came one after the other on the busy freeway. She could see the driver now. Black hair, black clothes, black sunglasses. She looked at the bald guy.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

The bald guy smirked. "As if you don't know?"

Harley flushed. "I meant what part of town."

The man shook his head and sighed deeply. "I can't tell you that." He threw something at her, a black cloth. "Put this around your eyes, boss' orders."

Harley nodded and tied the blindfold around her head. Her world went black and all she could hear was the even breathing off the two men, the sound off traffic, and cars whooshing by. Her hands stayed on the soft leather of the car, trailing up and down. She sank into her seat and crossed her legs in the dress, no easy task, it was pretty tight. After her mind began to drift and her eyes got heavy, they came to a halt. Harley gagged as the seatbelt hit her throat and she coughed slightly. Not only did she hear the car door open, but the air hit her like a bomb. She shuttered violently and a hand gently grabbed her elbow, lifting her elbow.

"Watch your step ma'am. We'll take the blindfold off soon enough."

Harley nodded as the gruff man led her. She could hear their footsteps. The mysterious ones were light and well balanced. The bigger man had stockier one's, like that of a bull dog. They led her through a warm door and she sighed in relief from the wind. They led her down a hallway it seemed; the openness of any room was gone. They stopped somewhere and a door opened, her blindfold was taken off. The room's light blinded her for only a moment. They gave her a slight push and shut the door behind them.

There was an Italian meal on white plates, a bottle of wine in a bucket, glasses laid out, good forks placed neatly on napkins. The room was sort of empty, but the white table cloth and the low lights made it nice. Harley looked at the occupied chair of the man who had come to her about a week ago. He stood, clasping his hands together.

"Well beautiful, we meet again." He said in that whiney voice. He walked towards her slowly, his gloved hands trailing along the fabric of her jacket. He smiled as her breathing hitched a bit. "May I take your coat?"

Harley nodded and slowly removed the offending fabric. The Joker smirked as he visibly ate her body with his eyes. Harley flushed, the rosy accent in her cheeks making this all too difficult. He walked around her in a circle, Harley looking away shyly.

"Take a seat, Harley." He led her over to the chair on the other side of the table, pulling it out for her. She smiled as she sat down, scooting under the table. The man opened the wine with ease and poured it into two clear glasses. The Joker sat down and gestured her to eat. Harley spooned pasta in her mouth and sighed as the flavors blended together in harmony. The Joker smirked, drinking his wine.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you to come here."

Harley shrugged.

The Joker stared at her with those dark eyes and she had to look away from his gaze. The intensity was unreal. "Let's just cut down to the chase, doll. Two weeks, twenty five thousand dollars."

Harley choked on her pasta, but quickly composed herself. "W-W-What?"

"It's quite simple, ya see…not many women catch my eye Harley. And you…you caught my eye. I'm willing to pay you to stay with me for two weeks to keep me…company."

The cogs in Harley's head began to churn. She had never taken a risk like this, always one nighters, and quick fucks. She blinked, placing her fork down. Two weeks. What could happen in two weeks? Who knew what this man would do to her? Her teeth sank into her lip as her foot began to tap. But it was _twenty five thousand._ It would be perfect. He probably couldn't go at it _every _day. Maybe he would have to work a lot too, he seemed like the busy type. Harley took a deep breath and sighed.

"Yes."

At that moment, Harley felt as if she had sold her sole to the devil. In fact, a large devilish smile formed across his red lips. "Good, now eat up. You're going to need your strength." Harley nodded and ate her meal slowly, but lost her appetite eventually. Her wine glass hadn't been touched, and The Joker noticed this. He pointed to her glass with his fork.

"You haven't taken a drink."

Harley shook her head. "I'm not allowed, doctor's orders."

The Joker quirked an eyebrow at her and cut into his meal. "Is that so? For what?"

Harley's face turned a slight pink as she met his eyes. "I'd rather not say."

The two held gazes for a fair amount of time. The Joker's eye pierced her, but she stared on, trying to see if she could outlast the gaze. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Her eyes met the wine glass she would not touch. He didn't speak again. An unnamed tension fell upon the pair. Harley's appetite faded as The Joker continued to eat. Harley would twirl her hair, cross her legs, or pick at the rubber band on her wrist, anything to release the nervous energy she felt. The Joker cleared his plate, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and drank the last of the wine in his glass. He stood, the chair scraping against the hard wood floor, making Harley jump. He held out a purple gloved hand towards her.

"Shall we?" He said in a seductive smile.

Harley stared at his hand and back at his face. She realized that once she placed her hand in his, she had signed her contract in her own blood. Her mind screamed to turn back, to run away and never come back. But she knew that sometimes, you can't listen to your brain, you have to fight to survive. With confidence, she placed her hand in his, standing up. He leaned towards her, the smell of wine enveloping her. Leaning down, he scooped up her body, causing a small gasp to emit her as she kept a vice grip on his jacket.. He acted as if she didn't weigh anything. He walked through a dark, open door, one Harley had not noticed. The Joker placed her next to something, and as he turned on the light, she noticed it was a bed. Harley pushed back a gasp and reminded herself to be strong. He leaned down, his hands placing them solidly on Harley's hips.

His lips roughly connected with her and she gasped, she felt paint rub off on her face, and those butterflies came back again. Monarchs, she decided. Harley felt his tongue shove inside her mouth, pushing her back slightly. His hands fisted in the thin material of her dress. His lips moved rougher, his teeth sank into her bottom lip, making her squeal in surprise. Suddenly, he spun her around and shoved her against the bed, forcing her body to bend over. Harley clutched the sheets as she felt the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling and a zipper unzipping. His hands yanked up her dress, revealing nothing but skin. Harley heard him groan.

She felt the head of his cock brush against her and she shuttered, burying her head into the soft sheets. It was going to be over quickly, she decided. Harley spread her legs and waited, that's all she could do. He began to probe himself inside her, causing Harley's inner muscles to squeeze tightly. The Joker's hands made his way to Harley's hips, grabbing them tightly. Harley felt full when his hips met hers. Their combined heavy breaths was the only sound in the whole room. He began to move his hips, Harley's hands fisted into the sheets.

The Joker grabbed the black zipper on the back of the dress and unzipped it roughly, reaching under her, he palmed her breasts. Harley groaned as he squeezed slightly, his hips beginning to pick up a tempo. He pulled her up so her back was touching his chest. Harley felt patches of clothing on her back. Her face was pink, her lips were parted with little pants escaping with each thrust. The Joker began to pick up the pace, Harley's moans became more prominent.

Suddenly, she wasn't just a girl getting fucked, she became something else. She bent over, her hands touching the mattress. Harley's mound of blond curls bounced with each swing of the hips. She squeezed the muscles inside her, causing him to groan. His hands tightened on her skin, though Harley could feel the bruising form, she didn't give a damn. The pleasure was beautiful, he was hitting spots inside her she didn't know _existed_. Harley let out a wild moan as she began to push back on his cock. A loud ''fuck'' emitted from her lungs.

Then he stopped.

Harley's eyes nearly popped out of her skull as she swung her head around, those gorgeous curls whipping with her. The Joker's eyes were smoldering, but she didn't care.

"What the _fuck _are you doing?" Harley demanded, bucking her hips. The Joker suppressed a groan, holding her hips still. She tried to rip out of his grip, to satisfy the craving aroused in her. But she couldn't move. A cry of frustration left her cherry lips. "What do you want? Please, come on baby." Harley tried to spread her legs wider, but it wasn't doing much.

"Say it again." He demanded, lust dripping from his lips.

Harley blinked, then it clicked. _Oh._ She smirked, someone liked dirty talk. "Come on baby, fuck me. Please, fuck me hard." She said in a breathy moan.

The Joker began to pound and Harley could've screamed in relief. She spread her legs as his grip loosened slightly. Harley leaned on her elbows, allowing more penetration. He began to brush this _one_ spot. Harley's mouth opened and she let out a moan. "Right there, baby. Yeah, oh fuck." Her moans became louder, higher pitched. "Oh God, yes! Fuck me harder baby!" His hips rocked the bed, each one sending electro shocks through her body.

Loud moans emitted from her throat, they were so _beautiful. _He wondered if he was fucking an angel for a moment… Hell, he knew it already. The sound of slick flesh made Harley shudder as her head bowed down, the pleasure becoming too much. Each stroke hit that damn spot. Harley could feel the tension in her pussy begin to build and she whimpered.

"Keep going baby, right there don't stop. Oh fuck. _Oh._ Oh God, here it comes. Come on baby, I'm so close. That's it." A wild moan left Harley's lips as lights slowly began to flash behind her eyes. "Ugh! Yes! Oh, _Daddy_!"

That name that rolled off her lips caused his cock to jerk roughly. Her pussy tightened, squeezing him, pulling him deeper. A series of low grunts began to roll from his throat. He held her hips down as he began to climb towards release. His hands found their way towards her full breasts and kneaded them tightly. A snarl ripped through him the same time his orgasm did. Their juices mingled, and through the haze of it all, they found mind numbing pleasure.

The Joker pulled out of her once his orgasm had run its course. He tucked himself back in and zipped his pants. Harley lay there, still in orgasmic shock. The Joker licked his lips, staring at her partially naked body.

"This is your room. You're things will be delivered here tomorrow." With that, he walked out the door, whistling an oldies song.


	3. Your New Twin Sized Bed

**Author's Note:**

**Hello readers! I apologize for my lack of updates, but my computer busted and being a poor college student…well…hopefully you understand my absence. I appreciate the wonderful reviews I've received (keepyourselfalive, love comes and goes, and GothicWhore, you know who you are…). The thing is I've never seen the movie **_**Pretty Woman…**_** Anyway, on with the show!**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_you used to think that someone would come along.  
and lay beside you in a space that they belong.  
but the other side of the mattress and box springs stayed like new.  
what's the point of holding onto what never gets used?_

other than a sick desire for self-abuse.

**-**Death Cab For Cutie; Your New Twin Sized Bed

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_ "What do you want to be when you grow up?"_

_ The question came on a warm sunny day in August, as the wind shook the leaves and children played along the merry-go-round. Ellie was rocking back and forth on the swing set, as Jack sat on his side of black rubber, his wild mane of blond hair covering his head. The twelve year old looked strangely at the naïve girl before him. He scoffed and scratched the back of his head._

_ "Why?" He said in a condescending tone._

_ Ellie shrugged. "I'm not sure. I want to be a musician." She said with passion sparkling in her baby blues._

_ Jack snorted. "Being a musician is like winning the lottery."_

_ "I could be the lucky winner." Ellie replied defensively._

_ "Not likely."_

_ Ellie frowned. "Just answer the question."_

_ Jack jumped out of his seat, crushing the woodchips before his feet. His arms spread out like an eagles and he sighed pleasantly, turning to the girl with a wicked grin on his sharp features._

_ "To be master, that is all."_

The world had not become Harley's friend over the past ten years. In fact, the only escape and stress release she had ever had been two things: playing her music and dreaming. Harley hated the sight of a guitar, vocals of a female artist. It reminded her of a young girl with hopes and dreams. It was strange, over the years, her memories had become like dreams. She couldn't decide what he had said; the little things had bothered her the most. Things like, "_Pass me the ketchup,_" became, "_Throw me the ketchup._" Or was it the other way around? Harley couldn't remember, every passing day conversations seemed altered, sunny days became rainy days.

In the stage of sleep, Harley felt something stir behind her head, touching her hair. Her body's reaction was to slap it away, but as her hand flew back, it was caught in an iron grip. Harley's eyes fluttered open as someone snatched her other arm, pinning it behind her back. As her lungs readied a scream, she was flipped, her front crushed into the sheets before her. Ropes were quickly secured on her hands, hair was pulled back, and silver tape covered her full lips. She howled behind the restrictions.

A familiar, fearful cackle sounded behind her, and her squirming ceased at once. Goosebumps broke out through her body, first at her head, then spread like wild fire across her body. Weight crushed her back and she whimpered, he was heavier than he looked. She felt the warm smear of greasepaint spread across her skin, stick to her blond locks. His warm breath fanned against her ear, causing her to shiver in fear. He snickered evilly, leaning down to her frame. It reminded him of a frightened doe.

"_Good_ morning, doll face. I hoped you slept well." He tightened the ropes on her wrists, causing them to burn painfully in her pale skin. Harley squealed as the pain squeezed her petite wrists, bright red marks coming to form. "We are…going to go pack for your stay here. Unfortunately…we need to make you sure you don't ah…_run away_ from me. So, for your own safety, _you _are going to be snug in these ropes while we take our…little drive."

With that, Harley felt a strip of dark fabric covering her eyes. Her head flailed side to side, trying to get it away. A snarl left his lips as his long fingers clutched her hair, he pulled back roughly. What she heard was the most gruesome thing she had _ever_ heard. This voice was inhuman, demonic.

"_**STOP MOVING.**_" Harley stopped immediately, her frame shook in fear. The Joker quickly tied the scarf around her eyes. He slithered off the bed, standing up, he lifted the rest of the blankets away. Her dress had ridden up just below her butt. Lustful thoughts filled his head, of her and him. But he digressed, there was a mission to do, that could wait until later. He pulled her off the bed by her feet, making her slowly stand on the ground. Harley was shaking; the poor hopeless, sightless girl didn't know how to react. Warm hands pulled down the short dress down slightly.

"_I'm _the only one who needs to see that." He said smugly.

Harley squeaked as she was lifted up, wind rushed past her hair, then something sharp impaled into her stomach. She groaned in pain, with that came a sharp slap to her butt.

"Shut up."

Harley did.

She felt him moving, every step a jab to her midsection. His heavy footsteps echoed. Door opened. The light was bright out here. More footsteps blasting off of a closed space. Someone was cooking something sweet. Another door opened. Freezing cold air nipped at Harley's bare skin, making her shiver violently. Gravel being crushed. It smells like rain. Car door opening? She couldn't tell. Leather material brushes against her leg, it's a seat. Definitely a car, maybe the one she was in. The air is warmer in here. The door shuts, shaking the vibrations. Other door opens and closes, a presence is next to her.

"Drive." The command was hard, threatening. The car vibrated to life, familiar whines of the seatbelt alarm sounded. Harley felt his body scoot next to hers, his arm wrapping around the headrest behind her. He smelled like gas, cologne, gunpowder, sweat, and greasepaint. His breathing was even and steady, like a relaxed lion. They sped off, Harley's body jerking in the process. She pushed her bare feet into the floor beneath her, trying to prevent her from rattling around.

The drive was long, every second passing like a minute, every minute like and hour. She heard bleeping horns as their car whirred and squealed down the highway. The distance sound of sirens made her heart soar. Every so often, the whiff of tar or burned rubber would meet her nostrils. Though she was fearful, she felt some protection with the man beside her. He was head honcho, alpha male. Nobody would fuck with him, and if they did…she didn't want to know. She knew he was a dangerous man, the air of danger surrounded him like smoke over the city.

After some time passed, the car finally stopped. Harley looked around blindly, trying to figure out what was going on. Car door opened and closed, someone opened the one next to her, letting her feel the freezing air. Awkwardly, she was put into the fireman's position once again. This time, she said nothing. The echo of empty space, someone walking up the stair. Hushed voices, talking about some game. Laughter, skin slapping, a grunt. Silence filled them, until they stopped walking. Keys rattling, a door opening, warm room, a smaller space. Harley was placed on her feet, though she was barely able to stand. The black cloth was tugged at, it slipped at from her eyes.

Bright light filled her eyes and she squinted, the searing white piercing her vision for a moment. Shapes took form, she realized where they were, in her apartment. The ropes loosened and she moaned in relief, her fingers immidiantly began to rub the swollen skin. It was an off purple color, she hissed at the soreness. Turning around, the purple man stood there, his face unreadable.

"Pack your things. You have twenty minutes."

Harley wasted no time as she turned to her room and shut the door behind her. Quickly, she pulled out the large bulky suitcase she knew so well. She filled it with everything, jeans, t-shirts, blouses, skirts, shorts, sweatpants, tank tops, high heels, flip flops, tennis shoes, socks, all in an array of colors. Harley quickly changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and a gray cardigan. Her make up bag was placed in the corner of the square contraption. Harley walked over to the large wall of pictures. Talulah had to come with her, a picture of her feeding ducks was taken. Indigo, her childhood cat, his fat body napping on her bed was second. One by one, pictures were packed.

Harley collected dog eared copies of old classics, paper back covered pages, and magazines with women and promises of leaner bodies, prettier skin, and a better sex life. She packed vanilla lotion, strawberry shampoo, and lavender perfume. Minty toothpaste and an electric toothbrush were used before being placed inside. Nail clippers, tweezers, gum, and other tid bits were placed in small pockets. Harley then remembered, finally, that she couldn't just _disappear _for two weeks. Sighing, her hands found the old pay-as-you-go phone she'd had for the past three years.

After a few rings, a yawn and a groan of a high pitched voice filled her ears. "Jesus Christ, Harl. I got off work three hours ago. What do you want?"

Harley snorted. "_Someone's _not a morning person…I just called to tell you I'm going to be out of town for a little while."

Talulah grunted. "How long?"

"Two weeks."

"Why in God's name are you going to be gone _that_ long?" Talulah gawked.

Harley sighed, her situation was pretty embarrassing. "I was offered a job from a private client. It's a lot of money Lulu, _a lot of money._"

"Oh. Well, good job honey. You need the money more than I do." She murmured with a yawn. "I'm sorry baby, but I'm bushed. Will you call me in a little while?"

Harley sighed. "Well here's the thing, this guy is kind of a…criminal. I don't think he would allow phones-"

"That's real suspicious baby, you sure you want to do this?"

The thing was, Harley didn't know if she wanted to do this anymore. It was charming, but now after what happened today…who knows what this man would do. He was a hurricane, dangerous and deadly. Harley realized, was this money worth her life? She sighed, it had to be. It was for the ones she loved, the ones she lost. This was for survival.

"I'm sure."

"Okay…I'll see you in two weeks then. I'll miss you honey."

"Tell Maroni for me, alrightie?"

"Of course. And Harley?"

"Yes?"

"Please…be careful."

The two exchanged goodbyes, Harley was the first to hang up. She turned off her phone. Her hands flew to her dresser drawer, and to the scrapbook that had lain there for ten years, never moving. She flipped through it, her heart twisting in pain, but a smile on her face. The book started from when they were young and older. Harley saw memories of Jack and a little girl skip pass her blue eyes. She knew which picture was her favorite.

_"Oh come on Jack!"_

_ "Jesus, you're so annoying Ellie. Get that thing away from me."_

_ "Shut up and say cheese."_

_ "No."_

_ "Please. Just one picture, that's all I ask for. You can pinch me all you want."_

_ Jack rolled his eyes and pressed his side against Ellie's. Her long arm stretched across his neck. _

_ "Smile." Ellie instructed._

_ Jack scowled. _

_ Quickly, Ellie's fingers found the ticklish part under Jack's armpit. His laughter was as clear as bells, and as soon as it cued, Ellie showed a grin before the white light of a camera flash enveloped her eyes._

But when she flipped to the familiar black background, the picture was gone. Harley frowned, her heart beating like a hummingbird's wings. Panic enveloped her, when she realized she didn't have time to freak out. Who knew what he would do if she took too long? Harley pulled out a picture of him at the park, sitting on the bench reading a book. She placed it in the suitcase and quickly closed it. Putting it on the ground, Harley wheeled the bulky contraption outside.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The girl shut her bedroom door beside her. He could hear muted drawers opening and closing, the soft pitter patter of female feet walking around in a hurry. The Joker sighed, drumming his fingers on the side of the wall. This couldn't be happening to him, yet he was still doing. Somewhere, deep down in his subconscious, he knew what he was doing was wrong, that he should tell her the truth. His fingers brushed across his scars. But why would she want him anymore? It had been almost ten years since he had seen her.

He pulled out the picture he took, staring at it intently. Ellie, in all her cheerfulness, and him, in his forced laughter. The Joker remembered how she would tickle him for a smile. After, Jack would pinch her until she was in tears. He didn't care, for some reason, he liked to see her in pain. Sometimes, Jack would wonder what it was like to kill somebody. To see the light rush from their eyes, blood pouring out of their throat…

The Joker had seen this many times, each time coming with the same sadistic satisfaction he felt.

He remembered the day in the picture. How Ellie had gotten a brand new Polaroid camera, and she wanted to go out and take pictures of the beach. After taking too many pictures, she insisted of one of them. Jack refused, but in the end, Ellie got what she wanted.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he knows he should tell her.

But The Joker didn't care anymore. What he wanted was Ellie, in any way shape or form. He missed, fuck did he miss her. He knew if she were to know the truth, she would run away. He would never lose her again. No matter what the cost.

Harley stepped out of her room, a bulky suitcase behind her.

The Joker smiled, holding up a rope. Harley's wrists began to hurt already.

"Ready to go, doll face?"

Harley shut her eyes and nodded.


	4. Bleed It Out

**Author's Note: I'm getting into the habit of writing now…Reviews feed the starving author, which means I will have enough strength for an update *wink, wink.* And...ACTION!**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_dug the trench out laid down there  
with a shovel up out of reach somewhere_

yeah, someone pour it in  
make it a dirt dance floor again

say your prayers and stomp it out  
when they bring that chorus in

**-**Linkin Park; Bleed It Out

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Bright light was the only thing that consumed the frail girl's eyes before her vision began to clear, dot by dot. She was standing in a kitchen. The sink was leaking, the floor was an ugly black and white, and the table was shabby, worn down by old age. The cabinets were a worn brown, the loud hum of the refrigerator brought her back to reality. Some thing ran by. A cockroach maybe? It wouldn't have surprised her.

A grunt sounded behind her, one of the men rolled her suitcase down the hallway noisily, and another man followed him. A happy, scary clown face found her scared features. He clasped his arm around her shoulders, and pointed to an area with a worn couch and a television with bunny ears. Two men sat there, both watching the news.

"This is the _uh_, living room. The kitchen is open. Bathroom is down…that way." He pointed to the first door of the hallway. "Unfortunately, the rest of the tour will not be provided by yours truly. I have…_business _to attend to. Instead, MD will be takin' care of ya, won't you?"

One of the men staring at the TV rose from his seat. His hair was neatly cut, and a light brown color. His features were sharp, almost sculpted. Though he was older, he _was _handsome. Clear blue eyes with knitted eyebrows greeted Harley's vision. His face was serious, yet somewhere under it, Harley saw some type of happiness. He was dressed in a white oxford shirt, dress pants, and a striped tie.

"Yes sir." His voice was harmonic, and had a rough Southern dialect tracing the edges.

The Joker smirked, and pinched Harley's cheek, and playfully said, "MD will be your…babysitter, of sorts. Because if you do anything wrong…"His voice turned from happy to threatening, his fingers dug into her face. Harley whimpered. "You'll have to deal with me, _got it?_"

Harley was able to nod.

The Joker smiled. "Good! Have a good time, Princess."

She heard a screen door open and close, her eyes found MD. The side of her cheek was throbbing, she hoped there would be no bruising. Speaking of, the circles on her wrists would be there for weeks. She pulled out a chair from the shabby sat and plopped down in it, mentally exhausted. The other chair scraped against the floors as a body sat down in it.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" MD asked seriously.

Harley sneered. "How is that any of _your_ business?"

MD turned grave, his eyes boring into her. "He brings back women every blue moon. They leave the morning after. Every once in a while, one of us has to drag her to the dumpster."

Harley's heart stopped for a moment, the words echoed into her head like the bells of _Notre Dame._ MD licked his lips and leaned forward. "He's never brought home a woman again. I have no idea what he has planned for you. But I would advise you pray, honey. You're going to need it."

Harley began to sweat slightly, the world fading in and out. She could really _die_ from doing this. How could she have been so stupid? Of course death was predictable when you live with a man who dresses like a clown… Her mouth went dry, when she tried to speak, all that came out was air. Composing herself, she managed to get out,

"He's paying me for two weeks." Harley whispered, twiddling her thumbs.

MD blinked, then sighed. "It's none of my business any way. I'm just warning you Miss…"

"Oh. Harley Quinn."

"Harley…" MD murmured. "Such a pleasant name, if I say so myself."

Her cheeks tinted pink and she giggled slightly. "Well thank you. Tell me, what does 'MD' stand for?" She leaned in curiously.

He smirked. "'MD' is medical degree. I was a doctor some point in my life. The real name is Atticus Park."

_Atticus, _Harley thought, _just like the book._

"It's for the money anyway. Times are hard, you do what you have to do." Harley said, her mind drifting.

The man stared at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle, a really _hard_ puzzle. His eyebrows would come together in a curious way, his lips parted slightly, his eyes had a thousand pictures flying so fast Harley could barely make a single one out. He drummed his fingers against the hard surface of the table. Under the constant staring, Harley turned her head uncomfortably. The awkwardness was not phasing him like it was her. The silence was deadly. Finally he smirked, leaning forward.

"Would you like a tour?"

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The house was not great, it had seen better years, but it was sturdy and out of sight. There were three levels of the old brick building. The first were the rooms, thugs and more thugs occupied with one or two roommates. The beds were decent, they had things like radios, televisions, clothing. A few took her by surprise. There was a specialty weapon room, filled with guns, bombs, knives, and Lord knows what else. Some were just empty, rotting floors with busted heaters and boarded doors, something you see in horror movies. Two rooms were not part of the tour. The first was painted black with a golden handle. MD said he hoped she never wound up in there. Harley had shivered. The other was like those old detective movies, brown with fogged glass on the top. Also you had your kitchen, living room, all that good stuff.

The second floor composed of a meeting room, with a long table and nice, comfortable looking chairs. Paintings lined the hallways, as did a few end tables placed here and there. More forbidden rooms. Harley was becoming more and more curious, wondering what was behind these. Maybe one day she would just have to sneak up and see what was going on…

The third floor? Triangle shaped, only one small space. A beautiful view of Gotham City gleamed inside through a single window. Boxes lined the walls, but there was a straight shot to the area. Harley realized she could spend hours up here, dreaming the day away…She had always been like that, a dreamer of sorts.

When Harley's stomach began to stir, the two headed to the kitchen, where Harley explored the fridge. The poor thing was nearly bare, with some eggs, a leaf of old lettuce, some expired milk, a few condiments, and a jar of blueberry jelly. Harley blinked, wondering how some people could just live like this. Even though her mother never really cooked for her, Harley learned her way around the kitchen. She looked at MD, who shrugged.

"The guys mostly eat out." He explained, almost in embarrassment.

"Would you mind doing a grocery run?" Harley asked.

MD sighed, "What do you need?"

Harley tapped her foot and thought. Digging though the drawers, she found a piece of paper and a pen. After digging through cabinets, in pantrys, and in the fridge again, she wrote down enough to fill the back_ and_ front of the paper. MD's eyes went wide and he sighed. The boss left money in a certain place that he told MD about, if the guys needed food or anything, he could just go and get it.

"Grab your coat." He said, pocketing the list.

Harley ran to her room, which took her a while, considering she couldn't remember where it was. After a few minutes she found it, her suitcase laid out on her bed. Digging through it, she found a black pea coat, slipping it on. She walked to the kitchen, where another of the men was standing next to MD.

He was wearing baggy clothing, way too big for bony frame. His eyes were alert and paranoid, flashing from one corner of the room to the next. His hair was blond, and so greasy with dirt, so shiny she could see it. He skin was covered in crusty scabs, his teeth were a dark brown. His lips were cracked and swollen, a small amount of blood at the corner of them.

"Harley, this is Zing."

The man held a shaky hand out to Harley. His fingernails were yellow, his skin just as oily and scabbed. Harley wrapped her hand around his, he shook her hand too hard. Outside was windy and cold, Harley snuggled into her coat. A violent wind blew her blond curls around her face. There was a black SUV in the small lot they stood in. Harley climbed in the back seat, while MD and Zing took the front. The car came to life and sped into the busy streets.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A paper bag filled with vegetables hit the table. As did ones with cereal, meats, cans, fruits, and just about anything you can imagine. One was specially filled with spices…a lot of spices. Harley hummed a tune as she began to unload the groceries, placing them in new spots. She dusted off the cupboards and reorganized the fridge as she put up everything. When everything was put up, Harley got a few things out and began to cook. Soon enough, the smell of onions and steak, with a small scent of potatoes filled the air.

The men began to crowd in the kitchen, it wasn't often they got a home cooked meal. Of course, questions formed in their minds, some had not heard of Harley's arrival. They asked men, who knew what happened. When the men heard the truth, their eyebrows rose and they smirked. Chatter quickly filled the room, cards were played.

But Harley felt alone. No one offered to help or spoke to her. In her mind, she hoped MD would at least talk to her, but he was engrossed in a conversation about Gotham's Batman.

"He's a fucking lunatic is what he is."

"You're calling _him_ a lunatic? Do you know who we work for?"

"Well, yeah. They're both crazy."

Harley stopped moving at that word.

_You're boy is crazy Harl._

_ He's just crazy, a freak._

_ Why do you hang out with him?_

Harley turned around, slamming the spoon she was holding to the counter. The chatter stopped, dozens of eyes fell upon her. She cleared her throat respectively, laughing at the pure irony. For once, _she _was talking, feeling empowered, she began her speech.

"Not _crazy._ Or a lunatic. Or a freak." Harley spoke slowly, calm. "Misunderstood is a better word." She smiled, slowly advancing towards them. "For those who don't know already, my name is Harley Quinn. I'm going to be living here for the next two weeks. I'm not a maid, I'm not a servant. I was paid for one person only, and what we do is our business only. You're honestly lucky I'm cooking, but you guys look like you haven't had a home cooked meal in years. I hope the next days are pleasant, and we all get along." One would mistake her for a fifties house wife. Harley turned and resumed her cooking, conversation returned slowly, but not about her.

Small steaks were laid on plates, grilled with onions. Roasted potatoes with Worcester sauce and thyme were awesome looking in a baking pan. Steamed vegetables were hot in a bowl. The men lined with empty plates and bellies. Harley went last, eating her meal silently at the end of the table. Conversation carried with mouths full of food.

A young man sat next to her. He was most likely Latino, with his medium skin and black eyes. His head was shaved, a goatee rested around his mouth. He was muscular, with a few tattoos adorning his arms. Harley recognized one as the Virgin of Guadalupe. His pants were low, his hiking boots worn. When he offered his hand, Harley shook it.

"The name's Santiago and I love your food."

Harley laughed. "Thank you."

"It's not often that we get a woman's touch around here. The closest thing we have to a woman around here is Marcus."

"HEY!"

The entire room burst out in laughter, and the man named Marcus was brooding like a lion with a wounded ego. Harley tried to contain her snickers, her silent apology shooting towards the young man. She resumed on her meal. Conversation flowed smoothly between her and the men. After it was all done, Santiago and Marcus cleaned the kitchen and put away the leftovers.

That's when Harley really hoped the next two weeks flowed smoothly.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_The sun was covering Harley's body in a warm embrace, the long grass fields full of blossoming dandelions tickled her nose, and a large tree sat near them, though Harley preferred the sun. Under the large oak tree sat Jack, a book in his hands, his face twisted in concentration. Jack never read books, but Harley had seen him toting this one around for the past three days, reading it whenever he had the chance._

_ Harley rose to her feet, the ladybugs flying off of her when she stood. She walked over slowly, a small yellow flower nestled behind her left ear. She sat behind him, the hard bark scraping against her back. Jack was too absorbed to notice her presence._

_ "Whatcha reading?" Harley asked, leaning her head against his shoulder._

_ Jack stiffened slightly, grumbling under his breath, and rolled his eyes. "__A Clockwork Orange__."_

_ Harley had heard the about the wicked book and it's deeds. She made an ewe face and turned away, staring out into the fields. _

_ This was were they went during the summer, when Harley's mother would be too far into drugs to know when she was there and when Jack's dad would go on one of his drunken rampages. Harley's face lighted with mischief as she got closer to him. With a quick flick of her wrist, she snatched the book, and high tailed it. _

_ Jack's voice called out behind her, but she just laughed and ran through the fields. She loved the feeling of the tall grasses sliding beneath her feat, the adrenaline pumping through her. Jack was hot on her heels, barely a foot behind her. Something grabbed her and she hit the hard ground, weight crushing her. His body was on top of hers as he grabbed for the book._

_ They realized, at the same time, their faces were closer than normal. Harley's heart was trying to beat out of her chest. Jack's heart was beating like a marathon runner's, his breath fanning over her. That's when Harley noticed him getting closer._

_ "He-He-Here's your book." Harley said nervously._

_ Jack stopped, taking the book slowly from her, and rolled of Harley's body. Somewhere in Harley's mind, she realized she missed the weight of him. He lay on the grass, sighing as he opened where he left off._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley brushed her wet, stringy hair in the bathroom mirror, struggling to get all the knots out of it. She was clad in a red and black tank top, with a pair of black underwear. The house was surprisingly warm, compared to the freezing cold outside. Her teeth were freshly brushed, her make up removed from her face. Little patches of water adorned her back, goose bumps lay on her shoulders.

She was thankful she had her own bathroom, toting her products back and forth would be a pain in the ass. Harley had made herself at home, unpacking her suitcase, emptying clothing into drawers, books lay on a chair next to her door. Her beauty products scattered chaotically on the counters. After shutting down the lights, Harley climbed into bed, picking up an old book and switching the lamp on.

At midnight, someone opened her door. The silhouette ghosted near her, taking slow even footsteps. Her lamp was on, and a ratted red book lay on her chest. Her blue eyes were shielded by her eyelids, her breathing was steady and even. Her hair was curly, and showered her face. The man got closer, running a finger up the blankets covering her body. Slowly, he pulled them down. Inch by inch, he saw the colorful tank top, her black underwear, and nothing else. A small groan escaped him, he had been thinking of her all day.

He placed a single knee on the bed and positioned himself over her, the springs creaking and the mattress dipping at his weight. Harley stirred slightly, but resumed her sleeping. He raised himself up and removed his jacket, loosened his tie, removed his shoes and socks. Harley didn't flutter and eyelash. He took her book and tossed it across the room, the more he stared at her, the more desire rose inside him.

His teeth sank into the tip of his gloves and removed them quickly, eager to get his hands on her body. He leaned down, inhaling her, the bulge getting larger. The smell of strawberries, chocolate, lavender, and water invaded his senses. The Joker loved the scent of the woman, the dainty, the feminisms of them. He loved their soft skin, full lips, and long lashes. Their curves, breasts, slim stomachs, long legs, firm behinds, and the surprise that lay between their legs…

His hands slowly ran down her body through the material of her shirt. He could feel the hourglass shape that the damn material was hiding. His long fingers brushed against the soft fabric of her underwear and he shuttered. Slowly, he slipped his hand inside her underwear. Harley stiffened slightly, sighing in her sleep. The soft, bare skin rubbed against his calloused hands. A familiar wetness touched his hands and he smirked. Slowly, he pushed a finger inside her.

Harley's cheeks flushed, gasping and shivering in her sleep. A slight whimper escaped her red lips. The Joker sighed, she was so soft, so tight around his finger. His breathing increased, his excitement grew. Slowly, he began pumping his finger. Harley's back arched and she squirmed, mewling. And just when he thought she wasn't going to wake up, a pair of baby blue eyes met hers.

Harley smiled slightly, moaning as his finger picked up speed. Her legs spread and hips arched, searching for more. White teeth sank into her lips, her head twisting to the side, blond curls bouncing. She reached for the edge of her shirt, her gaze meeting his, and he was exposed by the pale skin beneath her frame. His eyes became half lidded, full of lust. The urge to touch her chest became overwhelming, he pulled his hand out of her panties.

A cry of protest slipped past her lips, her hips bucked roughly towards him, pleading in her features. He growled, bucking his hips into hers. Harley gasped, a moan escaping her lips, a thousand images playing through her head.

"Shut up, you'll get what you want soon enough." He said in a low voice.

His head bent down and laid a single kiss on her collarbone, red paint smearing in the process. That kiss flooded through her body and heat touched everywhere. He pressed his lips down to her chest, where his hands attacked them. Harley groaned, her pussy becoming even more slick. His lips attacked her right breast, while he kneaded the other. Her back arched, dainty hands buried into his greasy green hair.

He was off her in a split second, collecting her sore wrists together and pinning them together. His face was near her, and a fearsome growl left him. The Joker's face was twisted in control. No woman ever took control of him, he took control of a woman. If he wanted her to do that, he would tell her. Harley growled back, not as threatening, but the sound got her point across. He feigned shock.

"Oh, you think _you_…control me? Ahaha. AHAHAHA. You…are hilarious doll face. Ya see…if _I _want _you_ to do something, I'll tell you. Harley, you are not in charge I'm afraid." He dug her hands into the pillow. She snarled, trying to become free of his grip. There was no use, strength wasn't her best quality. "I'm going to let go, and if you move an _inch..._you will pay for it."

Harley was perfectly still as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it behind him. She could see his chest, crime must keep you fit… Hundreds of scars were scattered on his body, bruises aligned him, some black, others yellowing. Harley's emotions pulled to compassion as she studied him. But to her confusion, he began to stand, she couldn't help it, she moved slightly.

In a flash, The Joker's hands were buried in her long hair. She squealed as he brought her face to his snarling features.

"Did I not _WARN YOU_?" He all but screamed. It was the inhuman sound again, she cried out in response.

"I-I'm sorry!" She squeaked, tears beginning to stream down her face. She was shaking like a little girl. Harley hated yelling, all the times her mother would tower over her…

"Not yet." He said with a snarl. Quickly, his hands made to his belt.

Harley had been beaten with a belt before. Until she was black and bloody, when she couldn't see straight for an hour, she was beaten until her voice was hoarse from crying and almost every inch of her skin was broken. Panicking, she used the one thing she knew how to diffuse a man. Harley pushed herself towards him, crushing her lips to his. In fear, she began to kiss him. His stance relaxed slightly, to her relief, his lips began to move.

She felt the cold, hard cement of the wall push against her back. Harley broke the kiss, staring straight into those piercing eyes. The paint on his face made him look fierce, crazy, and just plain _dangerous_. Harley's nails raked down his chest, the rumble that escaped his chest made her stomach clench.

Harley had never felt so sexually alive with a customer. Sure, aside the obvious ugly ones, she had some handsome men come to her every once and a while. When it came to that, of course she felt some attraction. But with him…it was feeling…_alive_. She felt like she was playing with a snake, something that could strike at any given moment in time.

Slowly, Harley dropped to her knees, looking him with eyes of a depressed doe, bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. She scratched his stomach ever so softly. His eyes shut softly and he shuttered ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry Daddy." Harley murmured, her voice sounded like a scared little girl. "Can I make it up to you?"

She didn't even let him answer; Harley took off his belt and dropped it to the floor with the metal rattling. His cock looked pained in the clutches of his pants. With a seductive smile, she undid the dreaded button and zipper, and with a swoosh, his pants fell to the ground in one easy motion.

The heavy, unsteady breathing of a man filled her ear, then a deep chuckle.

"Trying to avoid punishment?" He said in a low voice. "What makes you think you get to escape?"

Harley's heart hammered in her chest, and the familiar feeling of fear filled her to the brim. She stared back at the thick organ that was jutting out to her, red and stiff. Harley looked down, her blond hair swooping in front of her face. A hand threaded through her hair and jerked her head up.

"Open."

The Joker had received numerous blow jobs, all the same. Some whore trying to make a quick buck in the alleyway, and him, being there as a knight in shining armor, just happened to need a cigarette break. But this one was a little bit different. Maybe it was the softness of her tongue or the way she hollowed her cheeks. His hands balled into fists as the warm wetness began to surround him, not a sound leaving his lips.

Harley concentrated as she tried to take him all in, but it was proving to be a challenge. She shifted slightly, relaxing the gag reflex that threatened to bubble up at any given moment. The man above her growled, staring above her, intensity burning in his eyes. Her nose was buried into a forest of hair, a musky smell surrounding her.

"Take it all or you don't get it any where else."

The place between her legs throbbed slightly. She relaxed, taking a deep breath through her nose, ever so slowly, she took him all in. A shutter was earned from him, goose bumps raising all over his legs. The hand tightened in her hair, making her wince slightly. The Joker got comfortable, cracking his neck, which echoed off the walls through the room.

"You're going to want to hang on, _doll face_."

His hand pulled her back and pushed her right back down. He could feel his cock touch the back of her throat, every movement of her tongue, the suction created from mouth. His other hand hit the wall, the sound causing her to jump slightly. He had started slow, but his pace was quickly building. This was hell for Harley, who had trouble keeping him down as it was, the speed wasn't helping…

She hated giving oral sex to men. They were rough, demanding. Hell, giving oral was easy for them (depending on their sexuality). Harley, having a small mouth, was the worst candidate. What was worse for Harley, is that not a sound was leaving me. His head was thrown back, but she couldn't hear any noise. A thousand insecurities ran through her head.

His hips began rocking faster than ever. Harley's eyes screwed shut, trying to block out the friction. _Just hurry up,_ she thought desperately. Her gag reflex began to fade in and out, it scared her what might happen soon. He twitched violently in her mouth, he began to tense. Harley held on tighter, her nails digging into his thighs. It took one…two…three hard thrusts into her mouth before he exploded.

A major pet peeve is when men didn't tell Harley they were going to release. She doesn't swallow. The Joker stood there, breathing heavily, little stars and dots shining beneath his orgasmic haze. After the high of the sheer ecstasy wore off, he realized she didn't do anything.

"Swallow."

Harley stood there, if looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor with two daggers in his heart. He growled, pinning her head against the wall. The bitter salty taste in Harley's mouth was making her stomach sick. She squirmed and flailed, trying to be free of his grip, to no avail. He pinched her nose, blocking off air flow.

He could feel what she was about to do. Her mouth shifted and sharp teeth grazed his dick.

"If you even _think_ about it I _will_ beat you until you can't walk for months."

Harley's lungs were starving for oxygen, she was shaking, and air became her priority. With reluctance, warm fluid slid down her throat. A sigh left him, his fingers gently grazing her jaw. She wiggled free of his grip, his spongy penis leaving her mouth. She inhaled mountains of air, relief flooding her. She shot him a deadly look before spitting on floor, wiping of her mouth. Her jaw ached, her knees were sore, and her mouth tasted horrid.

The Joker cackled loudly. "Go brush your teeth."

Harley scrambled up and walked to the bathroom, bright luminescent lights greeting her. She quickly brushed her teeth, not missing a thing. The taste of semen was replaced with mint. She was angry, the adrenaline filled hate pulsing through her every vein. Embarrassment too, feeling overpowered made her feel weak, stupid.

So why were her thighs slick?

Arms encircled her waist and shoved her front into the counter of the sink. Harley squeaked, her head snapping up. A very dangerous clown face was reflecting with hers in the mirror, his eyes heavy with lust, a semi-hard penis poking against her. She saw his hands ghost up her stomach and attack her breasts, squeezing them roughly. Harley groaned, her head lolling back on his shoulder.

He pushed her down on the sink so her elbows rested on the sink. Her hair was haywire, running all over the place. Her lips were swollen, patches of paint covered her face and body. A warm hand cupped her pussy and she gasped, her hips reaching for friction, legs spreading for better access.

His cock was hard and swollen once again. She wondered in the back of her mind for a moment if he was _Superman_ or not. He stood behind her, his hands on her hips, manhood placed at her entrance. Harley mewled, hips coaxing him inside her.

And with a swift movement, he was sheathed inside her.

Harley gasped, her head falling down, the familiar filling of him hitting her. That heat corsed through her body, the pleasure, the ecstasy of it all. He didn't wait for her to adjust, he quickly went to work, pounding her into the counter.

And when it was all over, when the delightful explosion reached the highest peaks, she screamed. After it the water calmed he pulled out of her, but she had turned to Jell-O, falling to the ground. He dressed in his clothing, and left, shutting the door behind him.

_Viagra_, she thought, _that's how he can keep it up like that._

**Another Note: Sorry for the short scene, but hey! Oral, yeah, that's nice. The next scene will be longer. I'm just…it's hard to write smut, I have to tell you. My brain was like, "…Okay, just…just stop." Thanks for reading everybody!**


	5. Warm Whispers

**Author's Note: AND WELCOME AGAIN. How are you? That's alright. I'm fine myself. Quick question, does everyone want pictures of The Joker's men? Yes? No? Leave me a review or comment. Thanks a lot, love you guys.**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Your warm whispers  
Out of the dark they carry my heart  
Your warm whispers  
Into the dawn they carry me through  
And I'm weeping warm honey and milk  
That you stay surrounding me, surrounding me_

-Missy Higgins; Warm Whispers

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"_I'll take advantage while  
You hang me out to dry  
But I can't see you every night. Free  
...I do_

I'm standing in your line  
I do, Hope you have the time  
I do, Pick up number two  
I do, Keep a date with you"

_ It was a cloudy, dreary day in Gotham April 8, 1994. The soft, pitter patter of rain was muted slightly, thanks to Ellie's new guitar. It was one of those cheap ones you find in supermarkets, one Ellie had saved up about two months to buy. It was brown, with a sleek finish and a wood pattern. The strings were tight, the sound was alright, and she hadn't put it down in two days. Jack suspected she slept with the damn thing._

_ "Did that sound okay? I felt like I was missing something."_

_ Jack snorted. "Ellie, you bought that thing two days ago and you know how to play almost all of his songs in acoustic. Would you give it a rest already?"_

_ Ellie scowled and she strummed the guitar. Jack rolled his eyes, Ellie had always been stubborn about everything, you couldn't move her with a bulldozer. But Jack couldn't say anything either, he was just as stubborn. Ellie had always told him he was like some rock that never crumbled. He couldn't remember the analogy._

_ She remembered the first time she heard Nirvana. It was three years ago, when she was eleven years old. Guitar rifts, fast drumming, and a rough voice filled her ears. She had instantly fallen in love, finding comfort in the lyrics. And just yesterday, she had decided to pick up the guitar and learn how to play melodies._

_ Jack turned on the television loudly, trying to mute her repetitive attempts at that damn instrument._

_ "...Shocking news today from Seattle, Washington. Nirvana singer Kurt Cobain was found dead in his home today-"_

_ "What?" Ellie ran over to the couch taking a seat, her knees brought immediately to her chest in worry._

_ "Police found him in his home with a shotgun across his lap, and to punctures in his elbow. They have ruled his dead a suicide. Kurt-"_

_ Jack turned off the television, in some what of a shock. He looked over at Ellie, whose face was streaked with two single tears. Jack squirmed uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. He had never been good when it had come to emotions, especially other's emotions. He sighed, slowly wrapping his long arm over her shoulder. Ellie leaned in to him, fat alligator tears rolling down her cheeks._

_ "Ellie, he was a troubled man. Things like this happen when you put drugs like that in your system."_

_ Ellie sniffled, looking at Jack's gazing eyes. "Then I'll never do drugs."_

What a joke.

Harley sighed, turning to her side, staring at the blank white wall of her room. She did every type of drug she could get into her body. Crack, smack, heroin, cocaine (especially cocaine), ecstasy, LSD, alcohol. You name it, she did it. As long as it could make her forget anything… It was the greatest feeling, being able to take something, then feel on top of the world. Nothing could hurt you!

Then one night, Harley woke up in an alley. Her back ached, her head was throbbing. The alley smelled of piss and gasoline. Rats ran across freely in a frenzied pattern of finding food. Harley looked down, and saw that her clothes were a mess, disorganized. She moved slightly, sharp pain moving to her groin.

Harley thinks that she was raped that night. And what was worse? She didn't remember anything about it. She had no idea who they were, what they had done, or how much cocaine she had taken. Harley realized this wasn't a way to live her life, more of a way to kill her self. She stood, and walked back home, limping the entire way.

The only thing Harley touched these day were cigarettes, which she _really _needed right now. Of course, she knew cigarettes were bad for you, but it was better that cocaine.

She got dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a purple tank top. She pulled her wild curls into a messy ponytail, and put on a routine of make up. She was out the door, and the smell of coffee assaulted her senses. Passing through all the chattering men, pouring herself a steaming cup. Taking a seat, she listened to the ongoing conversation.

"He's outside, taking a smoke break, if you're wondering." MD whispered, a cup coffee in his hands.

"Well…I wasn't but thank you. I need a cigarette anyway." Harley was about to stand, but MD pushed her right back down.

"The last guy who tried to get the boss from his cigarette break, got a gun blast to the forhead."

Harley sighed, taking his hand off, and standing up. "Then I guess I'm just a risk taking kind of gal. Now where is he?"

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_It was a cold day, just like this one fourteen years ago. The school cafeteria was alive with student's chit chat, the smell of semi-edible food floated around. Students sat on hard seats, buddies punched on another, girls gossiped about the latest school news._

_ Jack saw all of this, munching on half a ham and cheese sandwich. It had become a tradition, really. Jack's father was too drunk to realize groceries needed to be bought, and Jack, being a growing boy, often went hungry. Ellie shared her refrigerator, which was almost always empty, thanks to Jack's healthy appetite. She would sit back in awe and disgust, watching him put away six peanut butter and jellies with an entire bag of potato chips. _

_ "So did you decided your area of study yet?" Ellie asked. She had pestering Jack about, ''finding his future'' and ''not wasting his life he was a smart guy blah blah blah blah.'' He mostly tuned out during her rants and just began to think about other things._

_ "Nope." He replied, popping the ''p,'' and shoving an apple slice into his mouth._

_ "Jack, you really need to find a future."_

_ "So do you. I've told you being a musician is like winning the lottery."_

_ "And I always ignore you when you say things like that."_

_ "And I always ignore you when you complain about my future. You can be __**really**__ fucking annoying sometimes." He said nonchalantly. _

_ Ellie was in a bit of shock, her feelings crushed. She turned her head away, placing her hands in her lap. Jack looked over at her._

_ Something strange had been happening to him lately. He had begun to notice different…characteristics about Ellie's body. Like the fact her breasts were getting larger, that the roundness from her face was melting off slowly. Every time she approached him, his palms would sweat, he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and last but not least, on some occasions, he would get an erection._

_Jack decided this was just a phase, which would pass in a little while._

_ Unknown to Jack, these feelings for Ellie would only deepen._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The air was cold on his lungs, the familiar stench of a cigarette surrounding his nose, the taste lingering on his lips. He was trying to distinguish the fog of his breath from the cigarette smoke, there wasn't much of a difference. The wind shook his greasy hair, the freeze of the air stuck to his paint.

That memory was as clear as the ringing of a bell. Looking around, he slowly took the picture from his pocket. He remembered the way her hair smelled blowing in the wind, the way her soft skin felt around his neck. He could hear her wind chime laugh, the soft sloshing of the ocean.

He placed the picture into his jacket.

The steel of the door some odd ten feet from him rattled, creaking and moaning as someone opened it. His hand prepared to grab his knife. He had _told_ all those idiot in there _never_ to interrupt his cigarette break. If the cops were coming to raid the whole place, you still didn't go out there, or you would die. But when a familiar shad of long blond hair and a soft, feminine face peeked outside, big blue eyes gazing at him, he relaxed slightly.

She smiled daintily and walked, her long legs hitting the pavement echoing off the walls. She approached him, shivering slightly.

"Can I steal one of those from you?" Harley murmured sweetly. He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a long white stick, handing it to her. Like a magician, a lighter appeared out of nowhere. A flame appeared before it, red embers glowing at the tip. Harley inhaled the sweet, familiar flavor. "Damn, I need to quit these."

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Then why are you asking for one?"

"I'm quitting! Slowly but surely. I'm only smoking one or two a day, better than a pack."

"You know, you never thanked me for that cigarette." The Joker said casually. But something was in his eyes, a glint, a spark, Harley didn't know how to describe it. She smiled, walking towards him slowly, giving him the same look. She flicked out her cigarette, placing it in her back pocket. Her arms wrapped around his neck, standing on her tip toes. His hands found her waist, playing with the skin barely covered by the flimsy tank top.

Then their lips were touching.

The kiss started out slow, Harley had meant it to be a simple kiss. When something warm and wet licked her lips, Harley slowly parted her own. Warmth spread throughout her body as his tongue invaded her mouth. She was moving, and then something hard hit her back, trapping her. She could feel his scars rubbing roughly against her face, paint smeared on her skin. His tongue was rubbing against hers aggressively.

Harley broke free of the kiss, and attacked his neck. A fearsome growl rumbled through his throat, his neck tilting to the side, giving her better access. Her tongue danced around his Adam's apple. In his bliss, Harley did something unexpected. She shifted herself quickly, and in a sudden movement, shoved _him_ into the wall. She attacked his lips, demanding entrance into his mouth.

He shoved her, causing her to loose balance. She hit the cold concrete, sharp pain shot up and down her behind. Slowly, her body began to hit the concrete, vertebrate by vertebrate. Then her head smashed against the gravel, causing her to gasp as her vision went white. In seconds, her vision began to come back, spot by spot, where a very angry clown was standing above her.

"We've been over _this._ _You_ don't control _me,_ _I_ control _you._ If I want you to do something, I'll tell you. Until then…you're on strike two. One more strike and…let's just say that dumpster is looking-uh-mighty lonely." He scowled at her, and pointed to the door. "Now get the _fuck_ out of my sight."

Harley scrambled to her feet quickly, running to the door, slamming it behind her. Her feet carried her to her room, where she locked the door, heart beating in her chest. His words rang in her head like music, clear and the message understandable. She was so _stupid_. This man was going to kill her after all…

_The money,_ Her mind reasoned, _just think about the money. How Cynthia will go to college. How things will be on easy street, at least for a while._

Harley sighed, screwing her eyes shut. She brought her knees to her chest and began to rock back and forth, a single tear leaving her eye. Her throat felt thick, but she held back as much as she could. She had to be strong, like when she was a girl. She just needed to calm down, relax a little. Harley rose, walking over to her dresser drawer, and pulled out a small music device. Plugging it into her ears, she let soft vocals and strumming guitars take her away as she got into a downward dog position.

Yoga had always kept Harley focused, not to mention relaxed and in shape. She was extremely flexible, and hoped to keep this up into old age. Harley had been doing this for about ten years. She felt it was a process for her to connect with herself and the earth.

She didn't know how long it had been, but she was doing the splits when someone knocked on her door. Harley inhaled, saying a soft, 'come in.' MD opened the door, and his eyes went a bit big when he saw her. Her legs were flat against the ground, her soft blond hair flowing in her face, steady breathing flowing through her red lips.

"Uh…Miss Quinn?"

Harley looked up with a slightly dreamy smile on her face. "Yes?"

"Do you want something to eat?"

At the mention of food, Harley adjusted herself so she was flat on her back, cradling her legs. Pulling a muscle was no fun, she liked to come off yoga nice and slow. She sighed, feeling energized and relaxed at the same time. Was that even possible? She didn't know. With a dreamy smile, she raised herself, popping her back.

"Why not? I didn't have anything to eat yet. What time is it?" Harley said with a sigh.

"It's twelve." MD replied, Harley beginning to walk down the hall. MD stayed next to her.

"Mr. J still here?" She asked fearfully.

MD shook his head. "Something you'll learn pretty fast Miss Quinn, is that he's gone off on business."

"Oh." Harley had decided not to investigate any further. She knew he _obviously_ did something dangerous, she just didn't know what. Murder? Bank robbing? All of the above? She had no idea, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she had a feeling that answer would spring out of the bushes at any given moment.

In the kitchen was alive with men eating burgers. A salad sat alone on the edge of the counter. Harley assumed that was for her. Santiago grinned, revealing perfectly white teeth.

"Hey, Miss Quinn!"

Harley felt old at the simple nickname. Of course, she understood it was out of respect, but Jesus, she felt like she was forty…

"Please, don't call me ''Miss Quinn.'' It makes me feel old. Kid, how old are you, like twenty three?"

"First off, I'm twenty seven. Second, you can't be that old. What are you, twenty five?" He inquired.

Harley snorted, pouring some type of Asian dressing on leafy greens. "Try twenty eight."

He snorted. "That's not _bad._"

Harley laughed with a mouthful of salad, taking a seat next to him. "Just wait, you start having an age crisis. You realize in _two_ years you're going to be thirty."

Santiago chuckled deeply. "Whatever you say, Miss Quinn."

"It's Harley, okay? H-a-r-l-e-y. Short for Harleen."

"Harleen? That's a strange name."

She shifted uncomfortably. "It's Punjabi, my mother is an…interesting person."

"Is that your first name?"

"God, what is this, twenty questions?" Harley snapped in an agitated tone.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."

Harley relaxed slowly, picking at a piece of chicken. "No, _I'm _sorry. I shouldn't have let my emotions wild like that, I have a tendency to let them get the best of me…"

Santiago smiled, placing a hand on her back. "Say no more, little lady. I understand completely."

Harley smiled, her blue eyes shining like the sky above.

Unknown to the two, MD was watching them closely. His frame leaned against the door, staring at him with a steady gaze. He knew what Santiago was thinking, the poor bastard. Hell, MD had been where he was now. Having feelings for someone he shouldn't. It started off innocent first, simple flirting. Then, it only takes one night to put you in a pile of deep shit…

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"…and then, he was right behind us."

"You're kidding!" Harley gasped in astonishment.

"No! I swear on the Virgin herself. He had actually seen us, and had that damn German Sheppard with him! So me and Isaac ran fast as we could. The dog got a bite out of my favorite pants though, but we got away!"

Harley burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the kitchen. They had been talking all night long. Conversation flowed smoothly between the two. Santiago was completely and utterly charming, not to mention cute. His eyes would crinkle up when he laughed, when he was telling a story, he would make hand motions and be completely animated, jumping on his chair and making the characters in his stories come to life.

MD appeared at the door of the kitchen. The two men exchanged glances, MD giving him a knowing look. He turned to Harley, who had become slightly worried.

"Harley, the boss gets here in about a half an hour. I would advise you get ready for his presense." MD suggested.

Harley knew what the underlined message to that was. She had a feeling, that if The Joker caught her talking to other men, he would do something erratic and irreversible. Harley gave a quick glance to Santiago before standing, her chair scraping against the tiles of the floor. She walked out of the room, looking back one more time.

MD pulled up the chair Harley was sitting in. Santiago had his hands clasped together, knowing that he was going to give him a talk about her. MD looked out into space, thinking about the whole situation. He stared at him, eyes alight with concern.

"I know what you're getting yourself into son." MD said slowly. Santiago rolled his eyes, MD pretended he didn't see that. "I was in your same shoes once-"

"Really?" Santiago inquired.

"Yes, really. I was working some job for a mob boss when I was young. He had a beautiful, young daughter living with him. She had…this raven hair that reached her back. Olive skin. Green eyes the color of pine trees. Big, ruby lips that curved just right. Her name was Elizabeth, but everyone called her Liz." MD swallowed thickly. "Her father caught us on night, together. He brought out his gun to shoot _me_…but…he missed. He…the bullet hit Liz."

Santiago saw tears well up in his eyes. MD had always been the father figure around here, answering questions, giving advice to those in need of it, and those who thought they didn't need advice. Hell, he was slowly getting Zing off meth, which no one could convince Zing to do if they had a million dollars. His breath shook slightly as he gazed at the young man.

"All I'm saying is don't get yourself in trouble kid. That was a mob boss I was working here, _you_…well, you're working with pure chaos my friend."

With that MD left, Santiago's mind playing a thousand scenarios in his head. He played cards with the guys, watched the news. But when a familiar purple clad figure walked through the door, he felt rage pulse through him.

Because, what man could hurt a woman like Harley?

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley washed her face and brushed her teeth, really thinking about what had happened. What was she doing? _Flirting_ with another man? While she had a customer she was working for? This isn't some, ''let's fall in love'' bullshit. This is about money, cold hard cash. Something you _needed _in this world to live. Harley wished it was more like _The Beatle's _view of aspect in life, all you need is love…

She couldn't fall in love. Love only caused distractions, her mind reason, love only causes pain. Only one person had truly ever wanted Harley, a boy with bouncy blond curls and piercing eyes that always gazed upon her. But there was no use in thinking about him, Harley had ruled him out dead many years ago. He was gone, most likely died years ago.

_I'll come back for you Harley…_

Lies, that's all she had been fed her entire life. Love was just some joke, only the fearless could love, and Harley was a damn coward when it came down to it. Harley through down a rag angrily, walking into her room. She sat on her bed and picked up an old book, beginning to get lost in the words of Victor Hugo…

Some time later, and Harley imagined it had been some time, considering she had gotten through about seven chapters. Her door opened to a clown in purple suit. His green hair looked like a cow had licked it. His paint was starting to wear down in some places, tan pieces of skin poking out from under it. Harley wondered how he stayed tan if he was in that paint all the time…

He walked over, with the stance of a dangerous lion, ready to pounce. His jacket dropped to the floor. He stood there with a smirk on his features and a spark in his face. Loosening his tie, he gave her a yellow, toothy smile.

"Ready or _not_ Harley, here I come."


	6. Queen Bee

**Author's Note: There's nothing like sipping cold water from the bottle, listening to folk music, doing a bit of writing, and enjoying the endless summer night that just seems to creep into the room ever so slowly…Reviews feed the starving author. (:**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Your so fly,  
No lie,  
And you know this (ballin')  
One of a kind,  
Top of the line,  
Drop dead gorgeous_

I saw you from across the room  
Dancing to my favorite tune.  
Navigating through this crowded room  
Excuse me, coming through

-Nickasaur!; Queen Bee

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_There's something innocent about warm, summer nights. Maybe it was the glow of the streetlights, the gentle chirping of crickets filling the air, or the smell of fresh cut grass. Whatever it may be, it filled the air as Jack and Ellie paced down the streets of their apartment complex. The hot air was filled with gentle steps of shoes, the stir of traffic and dogs barking. Ellie's hands were stuffed inside her shorts, while Jack's remained at his side._

_ Only at fifteen, Jack was a whopping six foot. When his birthday rolled around, he was about five inches shorter. In a matter of months, he had sky rocketed above Ellie, who was taller than average. His hair had grown longer, the baby fat in his cheeks were gone. He had become more muscular, his voice deeper. Ellie realized that Jack was becoming a man. It was odd for her, the girl used to the baby face and light voice. _

_ An iron gated fence caught Ellie's attention, as she saw the moon's light shining into a familiar body of water. The pool had been shut for about two hours now, and no one was in sight. The white chair reflected the sky above, the plants looking docile in the brimming light. The water made no movement, it was peaceful. Ellie stopped and observed it. It took Jack a few seconds Ellie wasn't there and he turned around._

_ "What are you doing?" He asked, annoyed._

_ Ellie sighed, cocking her head slightly. She turned to Jack, a glint of mischief in her bright blue eyes. "I…am going swimming." She grabbed the spear of the iron bar and pushed the soles of her shoes against the rod, pushing up. In an awkward, spy type of move, she hopped over quickly, almost breaking her neck in the process. She smiled, turning to Jack, who rolled his eyes at her._

_ "What are you going to swim in?"_

_ "I'm wearing a tank top. And shorts. I'll be fine." Ellie walked over to the dark water, sitting next to the edge of the hard concrete. Slowly, she stuck her foot in, sighing at the perfect, warm temperature. From the shallow end, she began to slowly climb down into the murky depths. Then, she submerged. A thousand freedoms spread of her body, each cell freeing the stress of the day. She was weightless, her blond hair whipped behind her in a frenzy, though her clothing was slightly heavy, her mind went beyond. She popped up on the surface, gently swimming over to the edge to observe Jack._

_ "The water's just fine, Jackie! Come on. It'll be fun." Ellie said in her best persuasive voice._

_ "What makes you think I will?" Jack said quirking an eyebrow and crossing his arms._

_ "Because…we're both water signs."_

_ "I am not a water sign."_

_ "Yes, you are."_

_ "No, I'm not. You're stupid."_

_ "And you never cut loose. So shut up and get in here or I'm going to drag you."_

_ Jack snorted. "I'd like to see you try."_

_ "Please Jack?" Ellie said quietly._

_ That was always Jack's undoing, that one word. The way her lower lip stuck out slightly and her eyes went all wide. He sighed, taking hold of the top of the bar and pulling himself up. He quickly jumped over, landing on his feet with cat-like grace. He slipped off his shoes and socks, walking over to the deep end of the pool. Ellie smiled, excitement in her features. Then, he took off his shirt._

_ Ellie's cheeks turned a little pink as she ogled his muscles, the happy trail that disappeared into his pants. Ellie had seen Jack half naked a thousand times, she had seen him completely naked a few. Her mind was snapped to reality when a loud sound of water splashing and a wave of liquid hit her in the face. Ellie squealed, throwing her hands up in protection. A few seconds later, Jack's head popped out of the water, smirking like the devil. Ellie splashed him violently._

_ "You're a jerk."_

_ He rolled his eyes. "You're just dramatic."_

_ Ellie frowned, scowling. "And you have no emotional value."_

_ "At least I'm not ogling your chest." He said with a smug grin._

_ Ellie's faced turned the color of a tomato. She sputtered in shock, and in obvious embarrassment. "I was not!"_

_ "Really now?"_

_ "Yes, well, how would you feel if I just took my shirt off, hm?"_

_ "It's different for a guy."_

_ Ellie grumbled, crossing her arms. They sat in silence for a while before Ellie disappeared under the blue water. She popped up next to Jack, who was staring at the moon. Ellie looked too._

_ "I bet the moon get's lonely." She murmured._

_ Jack snorted. "I doubt it. With all those stars in the sky."_

_ Ellie shook her head. "But no one is like him, not for thousands of miles. He's all alone in the solar system…I've always thought about you as the moon."_

_ "What?" Jack asked, confused._

_ "It's hard to explain. You're just…different from everyone else. Something about you isn't like the people at school or the supermarket, just people in general."_

_ Jack shrugged simply, Ellie didn't go any further into detail. She rested her head on his shoulder when she began to tire. Jack didn't move her, in fact, he enjoyed some type of affection. His mother was gone, she left a year or two back. She left a note that began with, "To Whom This May Concern." Jack remembered how angry he was that she left without him. The years of neglect were bad enough, but the fact she left without hit made him bubble and seethe with rage._

_ And his father, don't get him started. Every night he staggered through that apartment door. He would scream for Jack, who would be on the fire escape. Jack would walk into the room, staring at his father. A beer bottle would fly past his head and smash against the wall, shattering into pieces of glass. And when his father got him on the floor, a fist flying to his face, Jack could see his reflection in the glass. It didn't make him feel better that he could see that drunk bastard about to hit him. One day, revenge would come._

_ And then Ellie did something bold, she hugged him. Usually when this happened, Jack would roll his eyes and throw her off of him. But he embraced her, his long arms encircling her frame. She could hear his steady heartbeat below his wet, warm skin. He understood the message she was trying to tell him. As long as she was there, he wouldn't have to be the moon. _

_ Jack let her go. "So what are you, if I'm the moon?" _

_ Ellie pondered, her face twisted in concentration. Her wet stringy hair stuck to her face like a vice. Her bottom lip was stuck between her pearly white teeth._

_ "Gravity, because the moon may not know it, but I'll always be here."_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

It was a frenzy between the two. Harley's book was thrown across the room, paint was smeared across her pale face. The Joker's shirt and tie lay a heap on the floor. After he had spoken, he had literally _pounced_ on top of her. Their mouths were connected in a fiery kiss. His long body and heavy weight pressed against her. Their hips touched together. His hands began to explore on her torso and skimmed over her breasts, making her gasp and moan.

He ripped the shirt over her head in quick motion, his desire becoming more evident and eager as the seconds past. Her full chest was exposed to him, and he quickly attacked it. Harley gasped as his tongue peeked out from his lips and touched the pink peaks of her breasts. Her body arched forward, teeth sinking into her teeth.

His hands yanked violently at her panties and she arched her hips, letting him wiggle the fabric to her thighs. He released Harley's skin, and a cry of protest. Ignoring it, he through the gray cotton behind him. He made quick work of his pants as Harley waited eagerly for him. She looked like a little girl in front of a candy store.

His hand shoved her flat on her back as he straddled her, his manhood pressing against her. Harley's hands placed themselves on his back, anticipating the moment. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist, urging him on. Agonizingly slow he pressed forward, making her gasp and shudder. He slowly placed himself in her, making Harley squirm slightly.

Their hips were connected as far as they could go. The Joker quickly collected Harley's hands at the wrists and pinned them over her head. A look of predatory lust was written across him like and open book. Harley winced as his fingers dug into the bruises on her wrists. Then, his hips reared back and hit hers, hard. Harley's head lolled to the side and a quiet moan left her lips.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_ "Hey! You kids!"_

_ Ellie and Jack didn't think twice before their bodies scrambled out of the pool before their brains had a chance to react. Jack grabbed his shirt and shoes, and Ellie who hadn't brought any footwear, had nothing to worry about. The two leaped over the fence, were a blaring flashlight met their eyes. Jack grabbed Ellie's hand and made a mad dash. The cop talked into a piece of equipment as the duo rounded a corner. Quickly, Jack led them to an alleyway and threw them against the wall._

_ Ellie had landed on Jack in the midst of all this. Jack's hand made its way over Ellie's mouth._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The Joker's other hand covered Harley's mouth as his thrusts pushed inside her, hard and deep. Harley moaned into his flesh, her head arching back and her hips bucking roughly. The Joker responded with a harsh pound of his hips. She moaned, her eyes full of want and need. His hand slipped from her mouth.

"Fuck me, Daddy." Harley whispered, lust dripping from each word.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_The cop ran past them, Jack sighing in relief. Ellie climbed off Jack, laying next to him. Both of them were dripping wet and freezing. Their breathing was coming in uneven pants, the adrenaline high finally wearing off. Ellie looked at Jack, who returned the gaze. Ellie suddenly broke into a big, cheeky grin and began to laugh. Jack did too._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A familiar sound filled the house, one almost all men knew. Their ears immediately perked up, heads looked others, trying to confirm everyone had heard that. Screams of pleasure filled the house. Screams of a woman.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and Harley's screams were the loudest sounds in the room. With each pound of his hips, and animalistic grunt would fall from his lips. God, they sounded like animals, wild mating animals. Harley's moans weren't helping him concentrate. His hands faltered slightly, and the woman beneath him immediately wiggled free. Her sharp nails dug into the flesh of his chest.

His body tensed, so tense to the point of extreme pain, before the numbing, euphoric relaxation quickly washed over him. His face twisted in pain, but also extreme pleasure. Harley sighed, the urge to roll her eyes becoming evident. During an orgasim Harley had decided that was one of the weakest points you could find a man. The Joker collapsed on her, his face burying into her sweat covered hair.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_"That was close." Ellie murmured, looking around for the man in blue. When she couldn't see him, Ellie jumped from the hiding place. Jack followed her, small rain drops falling off them. She gave him a big smiled and tugged at his arm._

_ "Come on, let's get home. My mom's not in, you can crash with me."_

_ The two friends headed down the street, the of glow of the streetlights, the gentle chirping of crickets filling the air, the smell of fresh cut grass, and the sound of wet, sloshing clothing surrounding their senses._


	7. Rainbow Veins

**A Word with the Author: That time again, no? Reviews feed the starving writer, just saying. Right now I kinda feel like I'm talking to a brick wall. And people put disclaimers down, should I?**

**What the hell.**

**Disclaimer: The Dark Knight, The Joker, Harley Quinn, and Batman aren't mine (though I wish they were). I only claim my goons and other…characters and characteristics of certain peoples.**

**I also claim the song I wrote.(:**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Your nerves gather with the altitude  
Exhale the stress so you don't come unglued  
Somewhere there is a happy affair, a ghost of a good mood  
Wide eyed, panic on the getaway  
The high tide could take me so far away  
VCR's and motorcars unite on the Seventh Day  
A popular gauge will measure the rage of the new Post-Modern Age  
Cause somewhere along the line all the decades align_

Owl City; Rainbow Veins

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Light began to flood the Gotham with brilliant color that stained the concrete jungle. The city began to wake slowly, venders opening shops, businessmen getting into cars, mothers walking their children to school. Her eyes opened to a new, frigid day. You have to imagine, waking up every day, knowing that someone else is going to die, whether it be murder, over dose, gang related, or just some little old lady walking home, who gets stabbed to death for her hand bag.

In a room, two bodies lay under the sheets. The sunrise touches almost every corner in the small area, bouncing off the walls, onto mirrors, and on the carpet. Harley wakes up to the light slowly, her body refusing to realize that she's woken. She groaned, lifting herself slightly, but being pinned right back down. An arm was thrust around her bare waist, quiet snoring filling her ear, his warm body lay against hers. Harley sighed, slowly prying off his arm. He faltered in his sleep, searching for her. She quickly placed her white pillow under him. The Joker sighed peacefully.

Harley tiptoed softly into the bathroom, a swirl of pink, orange, and blue touching her pale skin. She opened a drawer gently, pulling out a pair of underwear, and gently slipping them on. Her quick fingers pulled out a tie-dye tank top. Harley combed her fingers between the wild excuse of her hair.

People always assumed that Harley was not a natural blond, considering her profession. Well, this was a complete stereotype. Harley has had flowing, sunny blond locks from the day she was born. The only thing she had ever done to her hair was add some colored streaks in her hair. And those had long ago faded away to the original color. She kind of missed the splash of color in her hair, she wouldn't mind a few streaks…

"Please, don't let me stop you."

Harley jumped slightly as she heard his eerie voice break through the silence. She turned around, her hand splayed across her chest. She let out a shaky breath before she spoke.

"Mister J, you scared me." She said in a playful tone.

"Get back in bed." There was no option in his voice. Harley walked over to the bed, a small smirk in her features. She climbed under the blankets slowly. Harley lay on top of him, every inch of their bodies touching.

The kiss started out simple and slow, but progressed quickly, desperate, wanting, sexual. The Joker's hands began to wander around her body, pinching, caressing, grabbing, and holding. He pulled back suddenly, sighing in frustration.

"Goddamn work always busting my balls…" He continued to ramble as he stood up, Harley sliding off of him. He grabbed his pants, still talking to himself, and slipping them on. He picked up his oxford shirt, button by button, came to be. He tucked the excess fabric of his shirt into his pants, buckling the belt that hanged limp on the hoops. He found his gloves scattered across the room. His hand scratched the thin layer of paint that shielded his face. He began to search for a tie, as he looked up, he found a blond holding it.

"Looking for this?" Harley said, twirling it around her finger. She stood to her feet, throwing the cloth around his neck. Harley reached on her toes to tie it quickly. She had learned how to tie a tie through years of practice. She would watch customers undo theirs, and she would watch each movement. The pull of the fabric, undoing the larger knot, figuring out what looped what.

The Joker grabbed his jacket when she was finished. His long strides led him to the door, he opened it, and Harley's meek voice alerted him.

"Daddy?"

He turned to her.

"Do you think…do you want to have the evening alone? I can cook dinner…" Her eyes were big like a hopeful little girl, her hands clasped together in her front, and her teeth gently pulled on her bottom lip.

The Joker wanted to laugh, but he held back the laughter. "Sure." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. "Go crazy."

Harley took the money in wide eyed wonder. She never really held a lot of money at once, unless she just got off the dance floor or was paid by a customer. The Joker slipped out of the door, still wanting to laugh. The men were scattered, reading newspapers, eating, spitting, taking a sip of coffee, watching the basketball game.

Swine the lot of them. Drug addicts, serial killers, thieves, rapists. Scum of the earth, people who made upstanding citizens sick to their stomachs. Nobody would ever hire them except for fast food joints and garbage men. Only he would pay them this much money, but the price was usually the same, your life was always on the line. But rotten apples all have one thing in common really: no empathy.

The Joker coughed semi loud, and heads turned toward him. Eyes looked away from the television screen, men stood up straight, they stopped drinking or eating, and several emotions came to the room: fear, hatred, awkwardness, surprise, respect, and energy. But the most prominent was an eerie calm.

"Everybody get the hell out of here."

The men looked around in confusion.

"Are any of you deaf?" His switchblade appeared out of nowhere, like a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat. "MD, not you. Oh, and you…yeah the Mexican."

Santiago seethed at him. The Joker mimicked cutting his throat and Santiago's eyes almost popped out of his head. He turned quickly, walking out the door.

Like scattering cockroaches under lights, the men dashed out the door without another word. They talked to one another in hushed voices, many glared at their employer. But The Joker only smirked, placing his switchblade back when the last man left the house with a slam of the screen door. MD stared at him.

"Babysit girly upstairs. When she's done doing whatever, you can leave."

He walked out without another word, the crunch of gravel piercing under his shoe. As he sat in the car he noticed in the mirror, he could see his make up was near gone. Pulling off his right glove, he huffed, digging into his pocket and pulled out three circular containers. Black was first, if you put white down first, it turned lighter. The red was next, pink was not really his color. His finger brushed across the bumpy skin raised at his cheeks. White was last, the ghost skin made everything else more _unusual_.

He tried to imagine himself wearing pink. He shook his head, _that _would make him look gay. Even though he wore more make up than drag queens.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley was confused when she walked downstairs to find no one there. What was stranger, was that MD was the only one sitting at the table, a paper shielding his face from her. She walked to him slowly, peeking over the flimsy paper. MD looked up in surprise, and was met instantly with the confused look on Harley's face.

"I'm supposed to do whatever you want, and then I can go home." His accent was more prominent than usual.

"Oh." Though it didn't explain too much, she just went along with it. "I need to go to the meat market, and the grocery store." Harley murmured allowed. Her fingers brushed along the money in her black skinny jeans.

MD sighed, putting his paper down. He stood slowly, his back popping as he went up. "Let's go."

Harley slipped a thick wool jacket over her white sweater. She also added a black knit cap and a pair of gloves. Harley hated the cold, she preferred the summer. Warm breezes stirring bright green leaves, butterflies fluttering from flower to flower, the sound of children playing on the slides. All of it brought back memories from the past.

The two scrambled into the car, eager to escape the bitter bite of winter. MD started a low key car, the hot air immediately blowing on them. Harley sighed in relief. Traffic was buzzing today, and her favorite market was about six blocks from her apartment. A handkerchief was thrown at her, causing Harley to sigh in displeasure.

"It's the rule doll, I'd rather live to see another day."

Harley tied the fabric over her eyes, the world going black. She could hear her steady breathing, the touch of the itchiness in the seat was clear, the smell of air conditioning filled her nostrils. Her hands folded daintily in her lap, not daring to move if she didn't have to.

"Where is this place anyway?"

"On New Hope and Barley."

The car was silent for a moment.

"Where are you from?" MD asked. It wasn't out of curiosity, more like trying to make the car ride less awkward.

Harley turned her head towards MD, out of habit. "I've lived in Gotham my entire life. I want to move out somewhere warm, like the Bahamas or Florida." She laughed. "I live next to Pearl Beach, that's probably the closest I'm ever going to get to the Bahamas." She paused. "What about you?"

"Louisiana." MD said simply. "I lived in a small bayou on the coast. My father was a fisherman and Momma was a kindergarten teacher. I lived there my entire life, 'till I up and left at eighteen years to be a doctor. Came all the way over here, I gotta scholarship to Harvard."

"You got a scholarship? To Harvad?" Harley said in disbelief.

"Sure did. Don't let the accent fool ya, my IQ 183."

"How'd you end up working for The Joker?" Saying his name was eerie, like a two year old saying a bad word. It didn't feel right, but you couldn't do anything about. MD shook this off quickly, no need to make things awkward.

"Well…ya see Harley, there are all types of people in this world. The good, the bad…and I'm a bad man. I did horrible things to innocent people. I spent time in prison, my medical license was taken away. When I got out, I couldn't find work anywhere. One night when I was sleeping by the street, the boss came over and offered me a job. I was desperate, you gotta understand. But there's a price you pay when you're in my position."

"What?" Harley said in almost a whisper. It was like listening to someone tell a scary story, and they're about to reach the end…

"The only way out of this job, is in a body bag."

Harley gulped.

"Do you think…I might…" Harley inquired.

"If you play your cards right and behave, you definitely have a shot of walking out of that house alive." MD didn't sugar coat things, he had no reason to. Why just make the inevitable nicer? Life was never fair, making it seem that way was just an illusion.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_"Jesus, we've been through ten musicians and still nothing."_

_ Mr. Andrews sighed, pinching this nose between his bony fingers. The coffee shop had been losing business for months now, and in desperate times, come desperate measures. Trying to find a good musician to play here was tougher than he expected. Most of them were hard rock bands, or just sucked in general. He looked down, his shriveled face and tired eyes looking down to the next person on the list._

_ "Ellie…Queenzal?" _

_ "It's Quinzel!" Ellie said, walking up with an acoustic guitar in hand. Her wild mane of hair flew behind her as she sat on the stool in the corner of the shop. It was a nice place, with cool colored tables and gray walls. It had the aura of and old diner from the 50s. _

_ "Well, my name is Ellie and I'm kind of a folk singer I guess." She said, cheerfully tuning her guitar. "I'm very dedicated to my music, not to mention I can work when you need me. My schedule is very flexible." She smiled to the married couple. Mr. Andrews was an older man, with a professional attire. Mrs. Andrews was clad in a workers uniform. The red made her already flaming hair look larger, her brown eyes were curious._

_ "I'm a horrid song writer, so I guess I'll be playing a cover._

_You don't have to be beautiful  
To turn me on  
I just need your body baby  
From dusk till dawn  
You don't need experience  
To turn me out  
You just leave it all up to me  
I'm gonna show u what it's all about"_

_ But instead of upbeat pop music playing, Harley strummed her guitar slowly, each word seductive. Her voice was loud and proud, the passion coming from every syllable that played from her lips. The Andersons looked at on another in amazement, surprised that a girl this young could sing like that. After the song was over, they smiled at one another, whispering. _

_ "When can you start?"_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley pulled two paper bags out of the car, balancing them equally as she shut the door with her foot. MD was ready to catch something or make sure she got in safely. Harley wobbled to the door, trying to find the key he had given her. MD rolled down the window as she barely managed to save one of the bags.

"Do you need my help?"

Harley shook her head as the door finally opened. She smiled at him, waving him off. "Enjoy today, when was the last time your boss let you out of work early?"

MD smirked. "Good luck, Harley."

Harley walked into the house, kicking the door shut behind her. She gingerly set the groceries on the table, making sure they were stable before she locked the door. She pulled out a pan and began to soak two steaks in a concoction. Feeling the effects of noon and having no breakfast, she ate a sandwich and apple.

She killed time quickly. Reading, watching the headlines on HLN, doing some yoga, and just singing and dancing around the house. Time flew by, and before she knew it, five o'clock had come. The Joker usually got to the house around eight or nine, so she had time before he got here. Harley walked up the stairs, realizing she was probably in for a hell of a night. Harley took a quick shower, nothing too much, and began to get ready.

She emerged from the bathroom in a heavy fog. Going through the drawers, she found her old pen stripe skirt. She smirked as she fished out a white blouse. Harley decided being some type of secretary would be fun… Her legs darned hose and her feet black heels. She put on her reading glasses and placed her hair into a loose bun. She smeared red across her lips.

The house echoed her steps as she went to cook.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_The coffee shop was semi-full, with people of all ages wanting to see what Old Man Anderson did this time. On a stool in the corner, sat a pretty young girl, with a guitar in one hand and a microphone in front of her mouth. Posters littered the windows of his business, announcing a new singer. Even on the first day, they were having good sales. _

_ "Testing one, two. Testing one, two." Ellie breathed into the microphone. When no feedback rang, she smiled. "Welcome to _The Java Joint._ My name is Ellie Quinzel, and I'm the new artist here." A few claps and applause came from the audience. She smiled, brushing her hair out of her face. _

_ "This first song was written for somebody very special. He's…actually in the audience right now." Wolf whistles sounded through the air, and Jack found himself blushing. She couldn't possibly mean him, could she? Ellie's eyes met his in a hopeful gaze. She began to ready position. "Hope you guys like it."_

_Burning eyes meet mine_

_And if the planets did align_

_I was lost and now I'm found_

_Please, don't let me drown_

_What happens when worlds collide?_

_And there you are, just hypnotize_

_Me_

_What happens, when everything falls apart?_

_Oh please, don't break my heart._

_And oh please, don't break my heart._

_Fantasize something that could be true_

_I don't know what I am without you_

_The world chewed me up and spit me out_

_We just want to scream and shout_

_Our song_

_Oh please, don't break my heart_

_And oh please, don't break my heart_

_When the world falls apart_

_ The crowd erupted into cheers, Jack even found himself clapping. He never knew she could sing like that, much less write a song. Every time she would tell him that, he would laugh or ignore her. But this…this was just special. Ellie smiled, pride flushing her cheeks. "Thank you, thank you. Anybody have any requests? Oh, yes you, in the yellow."_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley smiled as she saw two perfectly cooked steaks laying on dining wear, neatly sat out. Next to, two baked potatoes and two servings of steamed vegetables sat snugly. She lit two long, white candles and dimmed the lights in the room. The wine sat upon the table, the empty glass looking lonely. Harley herself stuck to a glass of water. Now that dinner was done, all she had to do was wait. She pulled out a chair, the white table cloth clinging to it.

It wasn't that long before he showed up, maybe a few minutes. She heard the sound of gravel beneath heavy car tires, lights flashed through the closed windows, and an engine shut off. Dull footsteps made Harley's pulse rise, though she knew who it was. But what if it wasn't him? What if it was some mob boss looking for revenge? Or some robber? The handle began to jiggle, before rough pounding shook the entire house. Harley stood up nervously, walking towards the door carefully, and peeking through the eyehole.

To her relief it was him. She sighed, unlocking the door and opening it for him. He stormed in, and stopped at what she had sat out, and what she was wearing. She smiled at him, clasping her hands behind her back.

"Bon appétit." She stepped back and pulled out an empty chair.


	8. The Good Old Days

**Author's note: Who is this? Who is this person who rarely shows her writing on this sight anymore? Yeah, it's me. No, I'm not dead, just have been busy like there was no tomorrow. I apologize for that. Not to mention, and I'll be honest here, I couldn't think of how to write this chapter. Like, I went through six before really deciding what to write. So anyway, enjoy I guess. Ellie has a secret revealed, and if I did any bad translation, I just used the internet sooooo….**

**Oh, major props to Arielle of the Raven, who left me that sweet note. I appreciate it to no end! Not to mention love to all the guys who read and review this story. I'm so happy people enjoy it.**

**Okay, enough sappy love crap, enjoy the gore, smut, hate, angst, AND secrets of the past! JERRY JERRY-**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_I know I'm not too much of a bargain  
And you know that's not what you bargained for  
As the hours turn into days  
Pretty soon lost in the haze  
It's up to you and me  
And who's to say  
These could be the good old days_

The Eels; The Good Old Days

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Papers littered the floor below her feet as Ellie observed the circle below her. Eight subjects lay around her, and when she was stuck on one answer she would go to the next one. Ellie was a smart kid, but since she had two projects and three tests on Friday, she was quite determined to do well. College had never really crossed her mind until the eighth grade. Her grand mother was poor, her mother was poor, and Ellie was hoping to break the cycle._

_ Jack stared at her as she was working on a math problem. All of Ellie's classes were advanced placement…except math. She had never been good at it, but thankfully Jack being a super genius, always helped her. In a quick motion she threw a paper littered with numbers at his face, which he caught._

_ "Try that one out for size." Ellie said with a smirk._

_ Jack looked at the paper, then at Ellie, and again back at the paper. "Still wrong."_

_ "Damn it all to hell!" Ellie swore, swiping the paper. "Which one is it?"_

_ "I'm not telling you." Jack murmured in a sing song voice._

_ "I hate you with a fiery passion that burns within my soul Jack Naiper." _

_ Jack rolled his eyes and scoffed, crossing his arms. "You love me."_

_ Ellie proceeded to glare at him, he just glared back. Those black eyes smoldered until she felt herself begin to crumble, but she kept her hard gaze. He smirked as he lay his back on the hard surface of her mattress. _

_ "Tu sei un bastardo sai? Giuro su Dio-"_

_ "Hey hey hey, no Italian."_

_ Ellie smirked at him. "It's not my fault it was my first language, you know. Mother is an immigrant who has no English skills."_

_ "And I still don't understand why you took Spanish?"_

_ Ellie smiled as she turned to the foreign language paper and scrawled down answers with ease. "Because not only is Spanish Latin based, but when you speak two languages, another one isn't so hard."_

_ "But for us normal people we usually don't make a one hundred average." Jack scowled._

_ "And for most slackers in Spanish like yourself, you have a seventy average."_

_ "Well you do my homework for me." Jack murmured._

_ "But you still fail the tests. And I don't see you doing my math homework for me, like you promised. Like Momma always says, 'Mai fidarsi di una parola che esce dalla bocca di un uomo.'"_

_ "Do you mind translating?" Jack snapped._

_ Ellie smirked._

_ "Never trust a word that comes out of a man's mouth."_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

He wasn't really expecting this.

Nobody really cooked for him, considering most of the men there had the cooking skills of a seven year old. After a long day of work a cold sandwich wasn't the best option to choose. His shoulders sagged as he took heavy footsteps up towards the old door. The Joker was pretty much exhausted, nothing really went right today. Meetings (driving numerous places), negotiations (holding a gun against a mob boss's forehead), and getting paid (his third bank robbery of the month). It was never an easy job.

He shoved his key in the door, trying to pry it loose. The damn thing was ancient. He jiggled the handle roughly, the frustration of the day beginning to finally cut through. With a growl, he slammed a fist against the door repeatedly. He could here her, heels quietly clicking against the tile of the kitchen. He hit the door again, listening to the patter falter for a moment. The locks clicked open, he grabbed the handle and shoved his way open.

The table was lined with a clean white linen cloth that almost touched the floor. Candle sticks lighted the room with a dim orange and red hue. On China plates were two steak dinners. But he really wasn't paying attention to that, more to Harley. Her golden hair was swept up into a messy bun; the white Oxford shirt hugged her curves nicely, not to mention the pinstripe skirt accented her hips beautifully. The pointed black heels gave her some lift, but made those legs look longer.

"Bon appétit." Harley said softly, revealing a white smile. She stepped back, pulling back the kitchen chair, the white cloth clinging to it for just a moment before it fell back gracefully. He sighed, walking like a thousand pounds rested on his shoulders, and as he collapsed in the chair, Harley really saw how tired he was. The shrugged shoulders, the lazy half-lidded eyes, the slow even breaths he took in.

Harley's eyebrows furrowed as she took a seat on her own chair. The Joker began to cut into his food, the metal scraping against the China. Harley grimaced, that would definitely leave some scratches. He took a bite of meat, chewing loudly, swallow, and then repeating the process all over again. The two ate in silence, maybe because there was nothing to talk about or the fact one of them was about to pass out in their chair.

The Joker took a swig of wine, Harley a drink of water.

"You know," The Joker began, "a little birdie told me about you and that Mexican."

Harley's face immediately flushed, her heart threatened to beat out of her own chest. She looked up slowly, worried he would fling that very scary looking steak knife in her direction.

"Let's get something straight here _Harley_…I…don't...**share**. Ever. And if I find out you've been going behind my back with some _idiot_ kid, well let's just say it's not going to end well. In fact, if I even here that you're **speaking **to him, he's a dead man. And you?" The Joker took a bite of his steak, looking thoughtfully to his left. "You're going to wish I killed you."

Suddenly, Harley's appetite was lost and she had the sudden urge to vomit. Yep, it was official, she was an idiot who decided the money was better than her life. Harley cleared her throat respectfully, looking back at him. Even though she'd seen him numerous times, he never failed to frighten her. His expression demanded that she knew what he was saying.

"Yes, sir." Harley said, bowing her head to her lap.

The Joker smirked as he saw her frightened expression. He took the last bite of his meal, dabbed his mouth as red paint smeared the napkin, and stood. "Sleep well Harley." His voice was condescending. He turned on his heels and slowly walked up the stairs. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and Harley wiped them away quickly. She collected the plates and began to wash, her thoughts being no comfort to her.

Warm water brushed against her skin as she began to scrub plates. She would just have to be more careful. No more talking to Santiago. It was kind of horrible really, she was just starting to enjoy a friendship. Harley hadn't had the best experiences with men, and when it came to having friends that were men…forget about it. Harley had only a few male friends in her lifetimes, now that she thought about it, she had only had a few female friends as well.

But why would he not allow her to have a conversation with another man? Was he jealous? Maybe not, considering he was probably a psychopath. It wasn't making sense; she wasn't going to go behind his back. I mean, he was a paying customer, not to mention it wasn't like Harley was a sex addict. In fact, over the years sex had lost that magic that it had once held when she was younger. Now it was just a chore, a business bargain.

Harley had realized years ago, humans were all animals, they just liked to cover it up and make everything cheery. She thought of lions. There's always an alpha male in the pride, always ready to fight. He had several mates, but in this scenario, Harley just made it one. So if a younger lion tried to mate with the alpha male's woman…it was all about competition. About controlling the pride, trying not to look weak.

Harley trudged up the stairs, dishes laid out on a drying rack. She would put them up in the morning. As she shut the door to her room, she stripped her clothing and opted for a baggy shirt and flannel pants (which she normally wore when she had a bad day). Harley climbed into bed slowly, sighing as the mattress embraced her body. And even though she closed her eyes, even though she relaxed every muscle in her body, her mind continued to spin.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

He never did sleep. Even after a few pills and some time his body never really stayed down. His mind continued to churn and click together, ideas and scenarios filling the air. The Joker stared out the window, city lights were dim in this part of town, so the moon actually was visible. It was a crescent moon. The stars shone like thousands of blinking lights. Actually, from this angle, he could see the constellation of Virgo.

He turned on his back and threw a pillow onto his face, sighing loudly. It was about three in the morning, well, it felt like it. The Joker really only got two to four hours a night. It had been that way for ten years, ten long years of no sleep. That can make a person crazy, of course, he figured that out a long time ago…

He laughed at this thought.

The Joker's legs had been aching to stand for an hour now, he finally gave in. He rose out of bed, the thick carpeting of his room sinking between his long feet. He scratched his bare forehead. His body felt grimy, and was caked in dirt, though he ignored the horrible feeling. Maybe some music would help him sleep.

He walked over to the large radio and flicked it on. Light illuminated as the machine came to life.

_"This is 109.7, The Oldies. For all you night owls out there, we've got a real treat for you."_

Piano keys filled the room as a rough trumpet harmonized the sound in a mystical way. The Joker knew this song all too well, he remembered when he heard it for the first time. He was twenty at the time, and had no idea who the blues singer was. His eyes closed as the sound carried through him. Then the words flew through him.

"And when you speak, angels sing from above." Now, no one would ever no this, but he actually had a nice singing voice. Husky, deep, in fact he would be a great blues singer. But, he found his other passion…

He scratched the side of his arm and noticed the dirt caked under his fingernail. His face twisted in disgust as he shook his head. Of course, he never really took a shower for image reasons, not to mention it made people's skin just crawl. But sometimes enough was enough, and every blue moon, he gave into the temptation. This was definitely one of those times.

As the music played in the background he walked into the bright bathroom. The white tiles had not been cleaned since God knows when. The same went for the toilet and the bathtub. The mirror was covered in water residue, the sink spotted with mildew. A single towel hung on the rack, which was surprisingly clean.

He saw his blond roots that had began to form in his hair and the way the greasy strands dangled from his head. He saw the deep black circles from countless sleepless nights formed under his dark brown eyes. He saw the crow's feet in the corners too, barely there. Years of stress mentally and physically had caused him to age faster. In fact once or twice a month he pulled a single gray hair from his head. Then there was his scars, the very two things that defined him.

His finger traced the "Y" shaped scar on his chin. The Joker remembered that one distinctly. A shard of glass from a tequila bottle had left a scar there when his old man bashed it across his face. He remembered the old bastard, the smell of his toxic breath, the short nose, big bulging brown eyes, thinning blond hair. In fact, Old Man Naiper resembled a mean bull dog. He was short, with a big beer belly. And though he was fat he had an iron fist.

His mother was small as well, only about five feet. She was mousey, with dark brown hair and eyes the color of the sky. Her mouth was usually pulled into a frown, and she always wore dresses. He remembered in the beginning of his life how affectionate and loving she was. She would always kiss his forehead or play with his curly blond hair. But then Old Man Naiper began to drink, and Momma wasn't so happy anymore. So unhappy, she left a teenage Jack to fend for himself against him.

The Joker punched the mirror, it shattered into a thousand pieces.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley had never been able to see much of her mother in her. Her mother was beautiful though, even the years of depression and cigarettes had never really touched her that much. She remembered the last time she saw her, it was two years ago.

Her long black hair was shiny and strong, her olive skin was always flawless. Large brown eyes were as beautiful as they had always been. Her teeth were a perfect bone white. An Italian beauty, she looked like she was carved by Michelangelo himself, a Roman coin of sorts.

Her mother always told her she looked just like her father. Though, when she said that she usually would throw something at her, like a chair or a bottle or something of that nature. Her mother hated her father. She had told her as a child that he left her, pregnant. He never cared for her or the small baby growing inside her. Her father was apparently a high class man in Gotham, and he would never taint his reputation, especially considering she was an illegal Italian immigrant.

Her mother said her father was training to be a lawyer, his father had been a lawyer than his and so on and so on. The family business was resting on his shoulders. One day, she happened to be in the same bar as he. They talked, laughed, had a few drinks and then went back to his place. But after an awkward exchange of phone numbers (they never used them), the young Italian never dreamed she would need it, but kept it anyway. Which was convenient, because a few weeks later the prodigy of their late night had crept up on her.

The young man quickly offered to pay for an abortion. Considering she was Catholic, the new mother refused to get rid of the small babe growing inside her. He said he couldn't be a father, that it would ruin the family name. She was shocked, considering it wasn't only her fault. Angered, she threatened to tell the press. The young man quickly offered to pay child support, to pay a _lot _of child support. In desperate need of money, the young mother agreed.

She gave the girl in the little pink blanket her father's last name, because that's how it was done in her village.

Harley wondered how her mother was doing, and Cynthia too. Even though her mother never loved her, she knew this of course, it wasn't like she was happy to have Harley. If she really thought about it, she never really recalled her mother saying, "I love you," to her. Did it make her sad? Of course it did, love never came easy to Harley.

Harley stepped out of her bed an threw on some real clothing. She brushed her hair and teeth, washed her face and put on a small amount of make up. In the early hours of the morning, the sun blasted through the house. She tip toed her way to the kitchen, making sure her movements were slow. Harley didn't want to wake anyone up.

As Harley walked in the kitchen, she noticed a paper sitting on the table, but thought nothing of it. She placed the dishes from last night in the proper place as quietly as she could. The birds were barely awake, chirping quietly. The kitchen turned pink, orange, and yellow as the sunrise lay scattered across the room like an intricate mosaic picture. Harley's bare feet were fascinated by the cold tile, the feeling of the morning always put her in a chipper mood.

"_Who's seen Jezebel? She went walking where the cedars line the road, her blouse on the ground where the dogs were hungry, roaming. Saying, "Wait, we swear we'll love you more, and wholly, Jezebel, it's we, we that you are for only""_

"That's some mighty fine singing Harley."

Harley jumped and turned around, her heart in a frenzy. She sighed and laughed as she saw MD's face, his body leaning up against the door frame.

"Why thank you, MD." Harley flicked on the coffee machine which began to whir to life. "Coffee's on."

MD took a seat at the kitchen table as Harley opted to sit on the counter, waiting for the caffeinated brew to finish up. MD looked snazzy in his blue collared shirt and his khaki pants and polished dress shoes. His brown hair was slicked back neatly, not one strand out of place.

"When'd you get in?" Harley asked, swinging her legs against the cabinets.

"About twenty minutes ago, I do keep my clothes here ya know." MD replied, picking up the paper and opening it up to the news section. The coffee times beeped and Harley poured two mugs, one with milk and sugar, the other black. Harley placed the black coffee before MD, who mumbled thanks.

Harley always enjoyed the mornings.

Except when the sound of a gunshot blasts through the room.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**Author's Note…again: Yeah yeah I know you can't get rid of me, but I though I'd share some news. I would like to introduce who I think makes the best MD.**

**Gary Sinise. Just thought you should know. (:**


	9. Facedown

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect  
Every action in this world will bear a consequence  
If you wade around forever you will surely drown  
I see what's going down.  
I see the way you go and say you're right again,  
say you're right again,  
heed my lecture_

-The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus; Facedown

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

When you hear a gunshot, your first reaction is that your imagining things, that it was all in your head. The second thought is, what the hell happened? Of course, MD being experienced with guns didn't have any of these reactions. He jumped out of his chair and dashed up the stairs, from which the sound came from. Harley's heart skipped two beats before it started a frantic pace. With shaky hands, she dashed up the stairs.

The air was all too quiet, eerily quiet. Harley saw that the door to her room had been thrown open. Her brain moved to auto drive as she ran down the hall and into her bedroom. The Joker was there, breathing hard with a pistol in his hand. MD stood next to him, looking at the floor. There was a man there, cowering in a ball. He was wearing a suit, and his brown hair was tussled. Next to him lay a burlap sack of sorts.

"Is everything alright in here?" Harley asked gently.

The man looked up at her. Electric blue eyes found hers, they shone in pure fear. His features were sharp, almost elfin. His full lips made him look disproportioned, in fact his whole face was unusual. Though his features weren't striking, they were pleasant to look at. The Joker stared at Harley with a smirk, keeping the gun on the man.

"We caught this _rat_ in your room. Unfortunately, I missed."

Harley then noticed the bullet hole on the side of her door. The man stared at Harley with a pleading look. It was strange, she felt like she had seen him before. Something about the way his face was put together…

"Dr. Jonathan Crane?" Harley gasped.

The man smirked. "At your service. Have we met before? I'd remember such a lovely face."

The Joker grit his teeth as Harley giggled and flushed. "Oh no, I saw you in the news."

Jonathan kept his eyes on her as he began to rise, until the sound of a gun cocking caught his attention. He stood, rolling his eyes at The Joker. "Be reasonable now, I'm just going to give a proper introduction." In the clown's mind, he saw a bullet flying through that smart ass head of his. But, he needed him…he wish he didn't.

The doctor stood up straight, slicking his hair back and adjusting his suit neatly. He coolly walked over to Harley in a slow, seductive manner. With a swift move, he put her hand into his. Those full, warm lips pressed against the tender skin of her hand and Harley began to feel faint. He leaned toward her ear, Jonathan smelled like aftershave and peppermint.

"Are you really with that _clown_?" Jonathan whispered into her ear.

Was Harley burning? She wasn't sure, but this man was definitely a charmer. She laughed nervously. "Uh, yeah."

"Well angel, when you decide you want a _real_ man…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white business card, slipping it gently into her front jean pocket. Harley began to tingle all over. "Call me." He backed up and gave her a wink, leaving a dazed and blushing Harley.

While the whole scene was going on, The Joker was fuming on the inside and on the outside. The way he spoke to her, the way he touched her made him want to cut him, _slowly._ Dr. Crane looked over at The Joker with an open mouth smirk. He was testing his patience, he _really _was. His eyes were looking for a challenge, and yet The Joker couldn't give him one.

Jonathan pulled out a pair of wire frame glasses and placed them on his face. He picked up his burlap mask, all while staring intently at The Joker. The good doctor tightened his tie and cleared his throat.

"Now that you have attempted to blow my head off, shall we get down to business?"

The Joker licked his lips and glared at Harley. "MD, take him down to the conference room." Even though he spoke to MD, he kept his gaze on Harley. MD nodded to the man as he made his way out the door. Jonathan smiled at Harley.

"It was nice meeting you…oh, I'm sorry I do not believe I even asked your name."

"My name's Harley."

"Harley," He repeated, "Beautiful name." Jonathan clasped his hands behind his back and strolled out of the room.

Something whacked the side of Harley's face as soon as Dr. Crane was out of hearing range. The stinging slap knocked her to the ground. She gasped, clutching the side of her face. A single tear rolled down her eye as she looked towards the ground. The Joker bent down, his body balancing on his legs. He had an eerily pleasant smile on his face.

"Now that, what you did there? Flirting with another man. You don't seem to be listening to me doll face. What do you think we can do to make you listen, hm?" The Joker flicked out his pocket knife. Harley's ears perked up as she heard the clicking of metal. He tapped the knife against his chin in thought. The Joker grabbed her face painfully, she squirmed violently.

"I asked you a **question, **_**Harley.**_" He snarled.

"I-I-I don't know!" She cried out. Harley shut her eyes tightly, refusing to look at here assailant.

The Joker squeezed her face harder, Harley tried to muffle the squeal that left her, but it didn't work. The pain was terrible, like someone was crushing her jaw. In biology, she had learned about, "the fight or flight mode." All animals did it when they felt threatened. Considering Harley couldn't fly away, she'd have to fight.

Slowly, the girl brought her foot from under her, and in a swift motion, her leg shot out and kicked him in the groin. His grip immediately loosened and the wounded girl cradled her jaw. The Joker cradled his injured parts and groaned in pain. Harley scampered to the corner of the room. She quickly remembered the gun she kept in the drawer. Quickly, she retrieved the small pistol, the cold steel lay against her skin. She cocked it, ready to use.

The Joker stood, clutching the bed for support. Damn, that bitch could kick. Her heard an all too familiar sound fill the air, and came face to face with the barrel of a gun. He glared at Harley, who was shaking like a leaf.

"Do it." The Joker whispered. "Come on you know you want to, _do it._ I dare you."

"Shut up." Harley's voice cracked.

"Put me out of my misery, beautiful. Blow my brains out. You _want_ to kill me. I make you so angry don't I? You're just a scared little girl, you don't know what you're doing. Stupid bitch."

Harley's teeth grit as she began to anger. "Shut the _fuck _up you…you FREAK!"

The Joker's face immediately fell, his eyes were alive with anger. Like a lion stalking prey, he pounced, knocking the gun out of her dainty hand. She screamed as he landed on top of her. His long fingers wrapped around her wrists, pinning them to her chest. He laughed that crazed laugh, and Harley's tears began to fall faster.

"You are going to _**pay for your actions**_. _UNDERSTAND?"_

Harley sobbed loudly, even through his hand. The Joker stood away from her, he watched her curl into a ball, cradling her face. He smirked as he adjusted his clothes and strolled out of the room. MD was outside the door, anguish on his face. The Joker smiled pleasantly at him as he smoothed out his sleeves.

"She didn't deserve that." MD said sternly. The Joker laughed as he ran his fingers through his clean hair. He began to walk, but turned around just to laugh again. MD ran into the room, and saw the saddest sight he had ever seen. Harley was curled in the fetal position, rocking back and forth. Her hair was wild, her face was bright red and already beginning to swell. Fat tears rolled down her beautiful face. MD ran to her, collecting her fragile frame into his arms. Harley sobbed louder as she buried herself into his shirt.

MD stroked her hair gently, letting her stain his shirt. "Now, now it's alright." He said softly, kissing the top of her head. Harley felt comforted, not so alone in the world. She wrapped her arms tightly around MD's neck. He was quite shocked from the girl's display of affection. Being a bachelor and the fact his family was miles away, he was taken aback from how she immediately attached to him. MD sighed, freeing himself slightly of her vice grip, and wiggled his arms under her legs.

He stood, carrying her into the kitchen. Her sobbing had stopped and she let out a small hiccup every now and then. He placed her on the table, she cradled her face, moaning in pain. MD filled up an ice pack quickly and wrapped it in a hand towel. He placed it gingerly on her swollen face. Harley hissed, the freezing cold hurt the sensitive skin. He handed her two small pills and a glass of water.

"Take these, they'll kill the pain and make the swelling go down."

Harley snatched the pills away and chugged them with water the glass of water. She breathed heavily; the pain from her face throbbed violently with every blink and every breathe.

"Harley, look at me." MD murmured.

A bright shining light shot into her eye and she shot back in surprise. MD moved from her left eye to her right eye. He tsked disapprovingly as he placed the flashlight on the table. He cupped her chin and stared into her eyes.

"Damn it all you might have a concussion."

"He's going to kill me." She whispered.

MD sighed and shook his head. "No he's not-"

"Yes he is! He's going to murder me. God damn it! I should've never accepted that fucking deal. I shouldn't have-" Harley rambled.

"Harley, hush. Don't say things like that. He's not going to kill you, okay? He won't do it."

"You don't know that." Harley whispered.

"I do, trust me. He ain't gonna do it."

"Really?" Harley asked, looking up into his eyes. They were the color of a crystal lake in the summer time. MD smiled and nodded. Harley felt some relief them, reassurance made everything better. She snuggled into his chest. After a while, MD squirmed uncomfortably.

"Harley, that ice pack is really cold…"

"Oh! Sorry." Harley clutched the towel and smiled softly. "I look like shit, don't I?"

MD sighed, he wanted to lie and make her feel better. "Do you want me to sugar coat it?"

Harley groaned, shrugging her shoulders. "What's the point? I'm going to see myself eventually." 

"Yeah, you look like shit."

The two stared at each other for a moment before Harley began to laugh. MD himself couldn't help but smile himself. Harley had a certain sunshine that touched her entire body, and it glowed brightly when she was happy. A door open and closed violently and heavy footsteps filled the halls. Harley's mind filled with scenarios of him strangling her, or stabbing her to death

She turned her head slowly, though she could only see on her left side. Jonathan Crane stormed down the hall, his mask in hand. He was mumbling, but then stopped when he saw Harley. He ran to her, removing the ice pack, getting a better look at her face.

"Good God that _savage _did this to you." He asked angrily.

Harley nodded softly.

"I should murder him for even _touching_ you. I'm going to-"

"Stop," A single tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm going to be fine, leave."

Dr. Crane bent down to her, gently cupping her face. "If you ever need me, never hesitate to call." He nodded to MD before he walked out the front door.

Harley and MD looked at one another. "Did he do this because he was jealous?"

MD nodded. "If you haven't noticed he get's jealous easy." The time caught his attention as he turned to the young girl. "The rest of the boys are going to be here any minute, I would recommend you get up to your room."

Harley nodded as she placed the cold ice back on her eye as she rushed up the stairs. She walked quickly, in fear The Joker would pop out of the shadows. Harley came into the protective embrace of her room. She shut the door and locked herself inside, laying against the frame. Nothing was going right, she felt like her heart was going to burst.

A crack of thunder made her jump in fright. She looked out into the city, dark clouds rolling around her. It was sunny this morning, the perfect start to the day. Harley walked over to the window, touching the boards that lined her window. She could see the dark shadows as the sound of pitter pattering rain fell on the house.

Harley walked over to her dresser and pulled out a small stack of pictures. Talulah was first, her brown hair was swept up into a pony tail, and her body adorned a pair of jean shorts and a yellow shirt. Ducks on waddling feet approached the bread crumbs that scattered the concrete sidewalk. She was laughing, her big sunglasses covering her almond eyes.

Indigo was next. His calico body was bulging with weight. Of course, this picture was taken after his fourteenth birthday, as a senior his metabolism was shot. She remembered how he purred, the way he would snuggle up to her on a bad day, the way he liked to lick the palm of her hand. She missed his eyes though, one was a deep blue, the other a rich chocolate brown.

Then there was Jack. The small Polaroid was taken on the beach. Harley was wearing a brief hot pink bikini. Jack was wearing a pair of black and white board shorts. She was laughing in the picture, and Jack had purse his lips and placed rabbit ears behind her head. This was taken a few weeks before their senior year. Jack had one arm wrapped around her trim waist, hers was placed on his muscular one.

She remembered days like that, the innocent summers spent together. The countless hours they spent around the town. Especially in their own little oasis, the way the grass tickled her skin and the hundreds of mindless conversations.

Harley placed the pictures back gently and shut the door ever so quietly. She was scared of what might come. The pain pills had finally kicked in. Harley fell back on her bed, clutching the ice pack tightly to her face. Drowsiness kicked in and she tried to fight it, but the combination from the pain pills and the trauma just suffered, her world became dark within a matter of seconds.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Harley, hey, wake up."

Harley's eyes popped open and she looked around confused. MD was above her, a plate in his hands. Harley raised her body up, looking around confused.

"Honey, you can't sleep you might have a concussion."

"But I'm tired." She whined, burying her head in the pillows.

"You're going to have to stay up, here…" He pulled her up so she was sitting next to him. Her body was drooping down violently, threatening to fall over. MD wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into his chest, sighing.

"Is he going to hurt me?" Harley whispered.

MD sighed, stroking her blond locks. He knew that his boss didn't care if you were man or woman, you got the equal treatment, well…women sometimes got it worse. It all depended on his mood that day, which was like the weather in Louisiana, unpredictable.

"He won't kill you."

"But he's going to make me wish he did."

"Now Harley you stop this right now." MD scolded. "You're going to be fine, you understand me? This too shall pass. Time heals all wounds. I know you're scared, hell I'm scared for you, but you have to be strong."

Harley nodded. "Okay."

"The Joker is jealous, beyond belief. The only reason I can talk to you without him going on a rampage is that I'm a trusted employee. Men like Santiago well-"

"He told me if I spoke to him he'd…do bad things." Harley murmured. A single tear fell from her eye. "I just want to go home. I want to be like Dorothy and click my heels and just reappear in my shitty apartment."

"You signed a verbal contract honey."

"Ten more days, of _this._ I can't…I don't think I can do it."

She didn't have much of an option, because the door opened the next second. In strolled the clown man and Harley immediately clung harder to MD, hoping somewhere in his mind he would defend her. The Joker leaned against the frame dramatically. His tongue dashed across his lips and he chuckled deeply.

"Get out." He said, staring at MD. The man sighed, taking Harley's hands and trying to place them on her lap. Harley's eyes were wide and pleading, she looked like a scared little girl not a woman. MD wanted to do something, find a way to make him leave her alone; try to get her out of here safely.

"Harley, I'm sorry." MD turned his back on her and walked out of the room. He passed The Joker, who was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. He pushed on, his body wanting to turn around and punch his smug face. As he made his way down the hallway, he heard the door slam shut and the click of the walk. And then Harley screams. He paused, imagining what that bastard was doing to her

MD snapped and his fist went through the wall.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The Joker slammed the door behind him, a big smile on his face. His hands were spread out, almost in a friendly manner. "Harley." His yellow teeth shone proudly as he walked near her. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

Harley pushed herself against the bed frame, trying to get as far away from him as she could. He placed his hands behind his back and paced back and forth in front of her bed. "I did some thinking, and I know what you can do to make it up to me-"

"_I_ didn't do anything." Harley snarled. "You hit me, I was defending myself-"

"How about you do yourself a favor _little girl_ and shut your mouth."

Harley shut her mouth as tears welled into her eyes. The Joker smirked, satisfied.

"Come here." He ordered.

"What?"

"Are you deaf? _Get over here._" His voice held no room for argument. Harley got on her hands and knees and crawled toward him, shaking the entire way. Her head was bowed as she got to the edge. He grabbed her chin and roughly pulled her face up. Harley whimpered and screwed her eyes shut. "You look like shit." He murmured.

Harley's foggy eyes snapped open, anger lighting her features. "No thanks to you."

A sharp slap hit her face and Harley cried out, the pain coming intensely. She clutched her injured skin. He violently pushed her on the bed and crawled on top of her. Roughly he pinned her arms down. Harley screamed, trying to kick him off her. He growled, pinning her legs down with his body weight.

"Get _off me_!"

The Joker back handed her again. Harley gasped, more tears falling from her eyes, but more adrenaline pumping through her trapped body. Harley cried out again, managing to get one hand loose, she swiped her sharp nails across his face. He growled, the sharp sting of the scratch hitting him. He smirked, turning to her.

"I _really_ like it when you struggle Harley, I _**really do**_. I was planning on a little knife play but…I got other ideas now."

His hands began to undo the buttons on her pants. Harley kicked violently, but stopped when she heard the click of a knife. The shining metal made all movement in Harley's body stop, even her heart. He smirked as he ripped off her pants, she wasn't wearing underwear.

"You've been waiting for me, huh baby?" He growled, unbuckling his pants. Harley began to sob softly, though she tried to be strong her emotions were on display for him to see. "It's funny how I pay you to do this, yet you refuse to. You're a horrible business woman."

Harley spat at him, the liquid landing in his eye. The Joker laughed bitterly, wiping it from his eye.

"And you beating the shit out of me was not in the contract. Deal's off."

He laughed, his hand shot for her throat, holding her there. "I guess I'm just going to kidnap you then."

A wild scream left her lungs as she threw a punch towards his face. He dodged it quickly and worked off his tie. He pinned her hands together and wrapped the fabric around her wrists. Quickly, he spread her legs and pressed his manhood against her. Harley began to panic as he touched her between her legs. A small growl left his lips.

"Not wet, hm? No matter, I'll still get in there." He put his elbows on either side of her head, Harley's hands were trapped under his chest, and her legs were held down by his own. She was crying as she shut her eyes and threw her head to the side. This was really happening; he was forcing himself on her and she couldn't do anything, no one would help her. She really was alone.

She screamed in pain as he made his way inside her.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

He rolled off of her, the aftershock of ecstasy still on his face. His breathing was deep and ragged, sweat poured off him, and most of his clothes were worked off during the process. He groaned as he sat up, putting on his pants. Piece by piece, he placed his clothing on his body. He smirked, turning to Harley.

She said nothing, her body was curled into a ball. Everything was in pain, every inch of her throbbed violently, especially between her legs. She could feel bruises beginning to form on her inner thighs. He had gripped her hips too hard, had slapped her around during his assault, and cut her every now and again. His sweat and semen touched her skin.

He walked out the door without another word, and Harley screamed into the pillow, because of the rape, because of the abuse, because she couldn't be free, and the worst of all, because she knew she was going to die.


	10. Rhinestone Eye

**Author's Note: Hey, short chapter, I'm sleepy it probably sucks.**

**If you have an issue with drug use (well, what the government calls drug use), there is some marijuana in here. If you have issues with it, you can deal with it and head on to read this or you can ask me for a summary of the chapter.**

**Review, please? They feed the starving artist.**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_I'm a scary gargoyle on a tower  
that you made with plastic power  
your rhinestone eyes are like factories far away_

when the paralytic dreams that we all seem to keep  
Drive on engines till they weep  
with future pixels in factories far away

Gorillaz; Rhinestone Eye

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

MD had not laid a finger on one cigarette in seven years. Most of the men here smoked, and the resistance to take one was always a challenge, but he prevailed. If you were going to live in this house, you had to have some kind of addiction. Zing had his meth, Chris was fond of the bottle, and everyone in between smoked. MD thought he was stronger than that, so did everyone else. And when he asked Marcus for a smoke, he was quite shocked.

MD had never felt guiltier in his entire life. He left her when she needed him the most. He could still feel her hands clawing at him, begging him to stay with her. And he left her to fight against a psychopathic wolf. MD could still hear her scream in pain, he saw her scared face and tear filled eyes. He was only out to save his own skin, he didn't want to interfere, didn't want to get hurt, and yet he let a young woman be beaten and God knows what else.

At least he was alone outside, Gotham was quiet for once. It was freezing cold, but the smoke helped relax him. He huddled into his jacket, trying to find some type of warmth. He thought about what she looked like, what he was doing to her. It only made himself feel worse, and he was happy for that, because he realized what a coward he was.

The front door opened and out walked The Joker with a lazy look on his face. His make up was smeared, his hair was wilder than usual, and three distinctive scratches lined his face, showing off bits of skin. He placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with a large inhale. MD really didn't know what to say, where to start.

"She didn't deserve that." MD stated, looking over at him.

The Joker looked back, puffing on his smoke. "I didn't ask your opinion."

"You took your anger out on her. What you did was wrong-"

"What _I_ did was an act of passion."

MD was stunned for a moment. His mouth went dry and his brain suddenly was disconnected. "You raped her."

"Rape is such a harsh word-"

"No, it's an accurate word. You _forced_ yourself on her, Jack. Jesus Christ, I can't even begin to count the ways she's going to hate you."

The Joker was silent.

"You know that sunny glow in her eyes that you always see? I'll be surprised the day you see that again. What the fuck am I doing here, I'm a doctor God damn it!" MD stomped out the burning embers on his cigarette and placed his hand on the door. He looked at The Joker one last time.

MD sprinted through the house, now in doctor mode. He remembered when these cases would land on his desk. He almost saw the tests done, their expressions (he'd seen them all, shock, anger, tears, fear), the way they would try to be strong and then just break down in the middle of it. They all pulled at his heart, being a doctor taught you how to comfort others.

MD opened the door to her room. The sheets were scattered all over the bed, he could see blood stains on some areas. The lamp was knocked over and a gun lay on the opposite side of the room. Harley's clothing was on the ground, some of it shredded to pieces. He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. MD walked towards the bathroom and pressed his ear against it.

He heard the sound of sloshing water and quiet sobbing. MD opened the door slowly, the crying immediately ceased. A shower curtain covered Harley, he could only see the outline of her. She had pressed her knees against her chest, in some sort of fetal position.

"Harley it's me." MD murmured.

Harley sniffled, "Hi."

Her voice was somewhat numb. MD walked into the bathroom slowly and sat on the toilet. He smiled gently, even though she couldn't see him.

"I know what happened, and I'm here if you need me." MD's fatherly voice almost made her cry again.

"I tried to fight him." She whispered, "I tried so hard to get him off me but he's so strong. I told him to get off me, that the deal was off, that I wasn't taking anymore beatings…but he told me I wasn't leaving." She began to sob then. "He told me he was just going to have to keep me here."

MD didn't say anything, he just listened to her cry. He took the brown towel off the rack and stuck it through the shower curtain. Harley grabbed it, wrapping the soft cloth around her.

"I need to get dressed." Harley murmured. MD noticed the sweatpants and t-shirt by the sink.

"Alright." MD stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He worked fast then. He pulled off the sheets and grabbed her shredded clothing. Quickly, he placed the sheets in the washer and tossed the ruined clothing. He found a new set of sheets in the hall closet and made the bed neatly. As he sat down, Harley walked out of the room.

Her hair was wet and stringy from the water, her face was swollen and bruised, and her arms had light purple spots and a few cuts on them. That's what he could at least see, the baggy shirt and pajama pants blocked the rest of his view.

"Jesus Christ, Harley."

She wiped the tears from her eyes and touched her fingers nervously. Harley was in pain, emotionally and physically. Every inch of her throbbed, especially her head. It felt like someone was taking a sledgehammer and just hitting her over and over again. She sat on the bed next to MD and sighed.

"You should see the rest of me." Harley murmured. She laid back on the bed and gripped the end of her baggy shirt. Slowly, she lifted her shirt above her hips. Several, deep cut marks lay there, bright red and beginning to heal. MD adjusted himself and leaned over, touching the wounds. Harley hissed in pain, jerking her shirt down quickly.

"I'm going to get some bandages." MD said, standing "Is there anywhere else?"

Harley's face blushed brightly, slowly she stood in pain. She didn't make eye contact with him as she pulled down her pants to her knees. MD could make out the 'J' on her inner thigh. He blinked, not sure how to react to something like that.

"It's disgusting, right?" Harley said, starting to tear up again. "I'm going to have that the rest of my life. I'm going to have all these scars the rest of my life. I'll never forget what happened." She hiccupped, shaking her head. "It's my fault I shouldn't have-"

MD placed hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stare into his eyes. "Harley, you listen to me. None of this is your fault. It's his, okay? You did nothing but defend yourself." He placed her into his arms. Harley cried wildly into his shirt, clutching onto him. "I'll be right back, okay?"

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Anyone would pass by him without a thought, it was just a car parked in the alleyway, getting pelted by rain. It was freezing cold enough to be snow though. The car was running to keep the heat, he really didn't give a damn if he ran out of gas, and his house was only a few blocks away. In this section of the city, there were back alleyways behind every building; it made it easier for criminals to get somewhere.

The Joker leaned back, eyes red and half lidded. He brought the joint up to his lips and inhaled, savoring the flavor, and exhaling slowly. White smoke danced in the air before it evaporated into the car. The radio was on, humming softly in the background.

Regret was not in his dictionary, neither was humiliation, sorry, love, and a lot of other basic emotions. It's not that he had never felt them before, he had. He had felt them one too many times. He knew the tingly floating sensation of love and the all to familiar feeling of anger. Seven years in Special Forces had forced him to wipe most of these emotions away.

You have no empathy when you shoot a man forced to fight in the head without a second of thought. You have no love when you hit and Iranian man in the face for information. You do not feel compassion when you see a child playing with a bundle of rags. There are few things you do, you fight, you listen, and you obey. They take your hollow mold and create you into some killing machine.

The worst part for Jack in the military was when they did the injections. Rows of his fellow comrades would be taken to hospitals and placed on the red line in nothing but their underwear. Do you have any heart conditions? Do you smoke cigarettes? Have you ever had an epileptic seizure? Then the doctor would have piles of syringes on a tray. Take you, stick it in you, squeeze, take it out and move on. You had no idea what they put into your body.

Jack's teeth turned a nasty yellow-brown, he became angrier and more agitated, and he would shake randomly throughout the day, not to mention all the other countless side effects that came along with being a human guinea pig.

He remembered when his drill officer came to him, needing to see him and him alone. They placed him in a room with only a table, a chair, and a dangling light. A large two way mirror was before him. Lying on the metal table was a pack of paper and a pen. Somewhere in the room, Jack was instructed to complete the packet. It became evident it was an IQ test. Jack complete 45 questions in sixteen minutes and thirty eight seconds. He scored 185.

Because of his superior intelligence, Jack was moved to the next level. There was more testing, two weeks of testing. After everything happened, Jack was told not only he was a genius, but a borderline psychopath. The army wanted to use this. They trained him, made him into a non-feeling individual. A manipulator who was not afraid to kill men, women, or children. They didn't realize they had created a monster.

He took the last puff from his blunt before he put it out. His body was relaxed and he was having a bit of an out of body experience. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the half folded photo. There he was, before the scars. And there was Ellie, smiling like an angel, she was still an angel. Since birth he had known what he was, a demon, something born for evil.

Ellie had always been this beacon of light for him. Every time Jack would get smacked by Old Man Naiper, Ellie would be there, smiling and there to comfort him. He remembered her wrapping her arms around his neck and cling to him like a little girl. For years she was really his only friend, and he raped her.

"_I'll take advantage while  
You hang me out to dry  
But I can't see you every night. Free  
...I do_

_I'm standing in your line  
I do, Hope you have the time  
I do, Pick up number two  
I do, Keep a date with you"_

The Joker shut off the radio, preferring silence at this moment.


	11. Rain

**Author's Note: Thanks to my readers, for sticking along with my brain. So it's memory time! Review, rate, message, comment, write a letter, whatever do what ya wanna do. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**-The Hopeful Writer**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_I don't have a past  
I just have a chance,  
Not a family or honest plea remains to say,_

Rain, rain go away,  
Come again another day,  
All the world is waiting for the sun.

-Breaking Benjamin; Rain

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Did I ever tell you about my life in Louisiana?" MD said quietly, bandaging Harley's inner thigh. She lay completely flat, her hands flat on her stomach. It was kind of weird, having her friend touching her. Especially a male friend.

"No." She murmured in reply.

"I grew up in a small town, middle of nowhere. I had a good childhood I suppose, my mother was a school teacher and my father was a doctor. I had a maid named Luella, sweetest woman on God's green Earth, I swear. She was the one who taught me how to tie my shoelaces, skip rocks, and every Sunday we walked down to the church house a mile down the road." He smiled sadly, "My parents and I were distant, and Daddy just wanted me to take on the family business. If anything Luella raised me.

"I was kind of a jock, graduated a Valedictorian, I was quite the active youth. Considering how well off we were my parents paid for medical school. I had a good time in college, I suppose. Met a few girls, joined a fraternity, studied hard, went to a few parties, smoked reefer for the first time-"

"You smoke pot?" Harley questioned.

"Let's just say if I had a dime for every time I rolled a blunt, I'd be a millionaire." MD smirked as he lifted her shirt and began to apply an anti-bacterial solution. "Anyway I graduated college and got a job in a bigger city. That's were I met my wife." His voice suddenly had a slight edge in it, "She…had long auburn hair, these big hazel eyes, round face…She was average height I suppose. She was so beautiful…like an angel swooped down on my life. And my God, her _laugh_, it was just like yours."

"Mine?" Harley inquired, now curious. MD began to bandage the cut marks on her.

"Yeah, when she laughed the sunshine just poured out of her."

Harley stared at the ceiling, trying to picture this woman. She imagined her in post era 1950s yellow sundress with little white gloves and her hair curled neatly. Harley imagined her with big red lips and a large smile. "What was her name?"

"Savannah Marie Delacroix," He sighed. "We met through my friend Will, I swore I would repay him with my life because of it. I proposed to her on one of those swan boats, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?" Harley nodded softly. "My family wasn't so glad. Savannah Marie grew up poor, they wanted me to marry an upstanding woman with high reputation. Her father was a factory worker and her Momma worked the day shift at the grocer's. She had six siblings, Peggy Sue, Allan, Jesse, Peter, Carolina, and Shelby," He paused for a moment, "Shelby was a boy.

"I continued to work and Savannah Marie made an excellent housewife. And my Lord she could throw a party! She was such a warm woman, Harley, I can't even describe her." He laughed, Harley had never seen him so happy. "She got pregnant a year into our marriage, with a girl. Luella was thrilled, Momma and Daddy not so much. Her name was Lillian Diana Park, we called her Lil' Diana. She was such a beautiful girl. She had her Momma's hair and my eyes, she grew up tall, real tall. When she was fifteen she was already five foot ten! I used to tell her to eat her vegetables so she could grow to be tall, I wonder if that really works.

"Now to be honest, Diana grew on my parents and Luella both. They spoiled her rotten, always bringing a stuffed animal or a doll every time they visited. A few years after Diana, Savannah Marie was pregnant once again." His face fell suddenly, his eyes wondered away in remembrance. "We lost the baby six months later."

Harley said nothing, but only nodded. She never said, "I'm sorry" to something she didn't understand. If you said that, you were never truly meaning it, you just pitied them. She patted his hand and smiled sweetly. He returned it, but still the undertone of sadness still remained on his face.

"Savannah Marie was torn apart for years. She fell into a deep depression, her smile just kinda…disappeared. Diana would always ask why Mommy wouldn't come out of her room. What could I tell her? I still worked my job at the hospital, I was promoted to Chief of Medicine. We had a good life for a long time. Savannah became happier two years later, she wasn't hurting like she used to. And then she got pregnant again." He smiled this time.

"Twila Imogene was born about nine months later in our home. She had wanted out right then and there, I delivered her myself. We wanted to name her Emmalee, but I remember her just popping out in the world. It was twilight then, and I could see the horizon just begin to fade and the moon and stars began to slowly creep out. That's what she looked like Harley, beautiful and shining. Me and Savannah Marie both knew that name did not suit her one bit. So we both decided on Twila, it was a perfect match.

"Diana started to make inventions around nine. She would take old parts from dead cars and take apart nearly broken clocks and just make a machine of some sort. She made a clock from scrap parts she found in the junk yard. She loved making dolls too, she made Twila all kinds of things when she was born. Things were perfect for years and years to come, every minute was a blessing.

"But afterward, things to a turn for the worst. Savannah Marie and I were just…changing. I had to work longer and she had to take care of the children. We fought about everything, money, the house, Twila being bad, Lil' Diana inventing crazy contraptions, me not being there. It got to the point we would argue every night." MD shut his eyes slowly, "I caught her in bed with another man one night. I don't know what came over me, I was just so _angry_. I had a shotgun mounted on the wall, for safety issues but…I shot the man square in the head.

"I got a good lawyer, he claimed I was insane and needed to be put in a mental hospital. It was either jail for twenty years or the insane asylum for fifteen. I wish I had gone to jail." He paused, "They revoked my medical license, Savannah Marie hated me, and I missed out on my baby girls' lives." His voice cracked, "They visited me once or twice every few years. They were so big, each day without them was absolute torture. After I got out they refused to see me.

"I had a cousin who lived in Gotham, he was real low life scum. He called me up and said he could get me a good job, but it was dangerous. I had nothing to live for anyway. I remember the interview, my cousin had dropped me off in his beat up car. It was in the bad part of town, and I was some square wearing a suit. When I first met him, I wasn't sure what to think of him. He was probably the strangest and most intimidating man I've ever met. We sorta hit it off, I was hired mostly for my medical degree. He was tired of taking out bullets himself I suppose. And I've been here ever since."

The air was silent as MD began applying arnica to her purple welts. Harley wasn't sure what to say, but she really didn't feel like talking much. In fact she didn't feel much at all, she was a bit numb all over.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

MD applied the cream to her hips, "What's your story?"

Harley sighed, adjusting her body. "I grew up here in The Narrows. My mother was an illegal Italian immigrant, she taught me the language of the home country. I never knew my father, but apparently he was some high class lawyer. I don't look like my mother that much, my father apparently came from the Irish bloodline, which explains my…" She circled around her face, "Non-Italian features."

"I grew up in a semi-livable apartment complex, it was nice I suppose, with a pool and a playground area. Two miles from it was this secluded field, it grew wild flowers and tall grasses every year in the spring. It had this…massive pecan tree, every fall I would bring a big satchel of pecans with me every fall. When I was five a little boy moved in the apartment above me. His name was Jack Naiper, and he was my friend for about thirteen years.

"We went to school together, we spent almost every minute with each other. My mother…was in my current position, she slept with men for money. It was easier on her and paid for the bills quicker. She was never home, in fact my mother kind of despised me. She would throw things at me and yell at me…She never told me she loved me before.

"Jack's father was a raging drunk. He beat him up real bad when he got mad. His mother didn't really care too much, she just hid. According to him his mother lost interest in him when he was eight. She left sometime in his teen years…alone with his father. Since his father had the urge to smack him and considering my mother was never around, we always went to my house. We slept in the same bed and everything. If my mom decided to come back, she didn't care who Jack was or what we did."

Harley stopped for a moment and breathed in, then out. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, _va bene_? It makes me sad."

MD smiled at her, "You think you could teach me some of that Italian? I mean, I speak French but I've always wanted to learn Italian."

Harley gave a weak smile. "I want to learn French, maybe we can work out a compromise?"

MD applied the last of the arnica and placed the cap on the tube. Harley pulled her pants up and lifted her shirt down. "Maybe," MD replied, "But let's get you something to eat first."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Santiago was sitting on the couch, his feet propped up on the old coffee table. Zing sat next to him on his left, Marcus to the right. Marcus was falling in and out of sleep, and Zing was shaking, his eyes darting around. Santiago was close to snapping his neck, he just wanted a quiet day, considering that clown freak wasn't around terrorizing the house. He sighed when Zing began to scratch the side of his neck repeatedly.

"Jesus man, go do your fucking drugs, you're driving me insane." Santiago snapped.

Zing scowled, licking his lips. "At least I don't have a ten foot pole up my ass."

"You better watch it you-"

"Would both of you shut the fuck up?" Marcus grumbled. "I swear you both have PMS!"

"I'll show you PMS mother fucker!" Zing leaped, going straight for Marcus' neck. Marcus flinched, his body ready to defend himself. Santiago's arm shot out and blocked the crazed addict away from Marcus. He flew back on his end of the couch, panting.

"Easy man, easy! Just chill, alright? Now listen, we're friends, no reason to lash out like that." Santiago sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Zing, please go what you have to do."

Zing's leg was bouncing up and down violently, he drummed his fingers on the couch and shot his eyes back and forth. He sighed, standing up and walking down the hallway. MD passed right by him, he looked panicked. Santiago's eyebrows knit into curiosity, he stood and walked over to the man, who had his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut.

"Yo MD, what's going on man?" Santiago asked, placing his hand on MD's back.

"A lot, listen Santy-"

A scream flooded like a flood down through the house. It started meek but was fledged to a full wail. Santiago's ears perked up, they weren't the screams of a male, but the ones of a woman. There was only one woman he could think of living in the house. He gasped, looking at MD.

"Harley," He whispered. Hero mode kicked in and he began to run towards the hallway, but MD's hand hooked him on his shoulder. He threw him against the wall roughly, staring straight into his soul. Santiago had never seen him like this before, so aggressive and _angry._ MD's eyes were alive with fire, Santiago's shaded with fear.

"Now kid you better listen and listen well, you are about to do something _really_ stupid, you understand? That man in there is not going to just be shot, he is going to fight his way through Hell to make sure you have a slow and painful death. You did some stupid shit yesterday, flirting with Harley. If you're going to rescue her you're going end up chopped into fish food. Understand?"

Santiago nodded quickly.

"Good, now give me a cigarette, I need one." MD's ears picked up another cry. He shook his head, saddened at what he was hearing. Marcus stood up and handed him the white stick and a lighter. MD snatched them, placing the cigarette in his mouth and quickly lighting it. He inhaled furiously, savoring the small high he had just received. Another wail of pain hit the walls of the house. "Jesus, I can't listen to this, I'm going outside." MD plucked the pack of cigarettes from the table and walked outside.

The two paced around the house and decided to worry in den. Marcus was propped up against the wall, his face holding shock. The two were paralyzed in listening to this, it made them both sick to their stomach. Santiago touched his bald head, thinking of what to do. He didn't have a strategy or a plan, he knew his boss was smart.

"We have to do _something_." Santiago announced.

"What do you want us to do? Go in and save the day. Nah man, I'm looking out for my own neck." Marcus sighed, trying to block the sounds from his ears.

The screaming halted for a moment, Marcus and Santiago looked at one another in curiosity. Had he stopped his assault on her? Their ears were ready to pick up the next pin drop. Then there was this animalistic grunting noise, like a lion in pain, but then the walls started to shake and a dull thumping noise was detected. Santiago's stomach dropped, he looked at Marcus.

"He's…He's-"

"I know," Marcus murmured in a daze, "I know."

Santiago walked out the back door and into the alleyway. That sick fuck _forced _himself on her. He leaned against the freezing brick wall, a flash of lightening flashed before booming thunder announced himself. It began to rain once again. Santiago slid to the floor, staring at the pebbles. He remembered MD's words, they echoed in his brain like the ocean in a seashell.

He realized he couldn't stay, it was too dangerous for him. He _did_ like Harley, he wanted to take her out on dates, share private jokes, he wanted all the relationship crap. As long as he stayed there with her, the more danger he put himself in. That clown would give him a Columbian bowtie, _lo antes posible._ He didn't understand why it had to be her, why he felt this gravitational pull when he was near her. He wondered if Harley felt the same way he did. He remembered when he first saw her. It was in the kitchen when she sat down. Her long hair was loose and wild, her eyes were sparkling blue, her body was full of curves, dimples, and was just _sexy_. And as he approached her, the smell of dessert filled his nose. He knew why she was there, plenty of women had passed through here, but she was different than them, she was just shinier.

It could have been hours before Marcus opened the door, but there he was, leaning against the frame. His eyes were sad, his body deflated. Santiago looked at him, and Marcus could've sworn he saw tears brimming in his dark eyes. Santiago looked defeated, like someone had just hit killed his puppy. "Come on Santy, it stopped." He said gently.

Santiago walked inside and sat on the couch, cradling his head in his hands. Marcus plopped down next to him, patting his back. The two said nothing, unspoken fears of the woman passed between them. A door slammed down the hallway, and lazy footsteps filled the air. The two men straightened up out of habit. Santiago had anger coursing through his veins, his fists tightened into balls as The Joker entered the kitchen. He cracked his neck, grumbling to himself. Santiago glared at him, The Joker feeling eyes on his back, turned around.

The Joker gave him the look of a killer, a crazed, angry look. Santiago still head his eyes. The older man cocked his head to the side and licked his lip. "You gotta problem with me, Mexican?" He asked. He advanced towards Santiago, his hands clasped behind his back. Daringly, Santiago stood, challenging him. The Joker being over six foot, towered over him. The Joker was closer and he smiled, leaning towards him. "Let's get something straight here, _I am_ in charge. And if you even _think_ you can take me down, you're fucking hallucinating. So if you're going to hit me, do it, I dare you. _Just see what happens._"

Santiago did nothing, The Joker smirked. "That's what I thought."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley was dressed properly now, with a pair of black skinny jeans and a white long sleeved shirt. Her hair covered her face, a pathetic excuse in attempting to cover her bruised skin. Hard lumps lined her forehead and cheeks, the purple color wasn't appealing at all, not to mention she had to swallow pain pills every other hour to keep her head from throbbing. She looked absolutely horrible.

MD smiled gently as she walked out of the bathroom, Harley didn't show any facial emotion. MD knew what was going to happen, the depression faze was going to kick in. She was going to sob harder, cry louder, and be angrier. MD placed his hand on her shoulder and gently walked her outside the door. Harley hung her head, trying to let her hair shield her face from everyone who would see.

Harley saw the steps below her feet, she walked them one by one. Her entire body was sore from the beating, she just hurt everywhere. Cold tile tickled her feet as she walked in the kitchen. She felt a few other beings there, all murmuring until she was in the room. All talking stopped as she walked in the room, she felt like the freak at the circus, everyone wanted a peek.

"MD I don't want to do this." Harley whispered.

"Harley-"

"No, I'm not…I can't…" Harley's eyes welled up with tears as she turned around and ran up the stares. The men all looked at each other. MD sighed, heading to the fridge to make a sandwich for the poor girl.

"Now look, I don't want anything emotionally distressing for that girl. That means no staring and no questions. What just happened to her was traumatic and sick, she's been through enough for a lifetime. Everyone one understand?"

The men nodded.

"Good." MD walked up the stairs, a plate in hand. He opened the door to Harley's room. She was buried in a pillow, her hair thrown all over the place. Harley met his face with tears in her eyes.

"Can I have a different room?" She whispered.

MD sighed, "I'll ask, now eat this."

Harley placed her head in the pillows, shaking her head. "I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten, you need to, and it'll keep your strength up." MD sat on the bed next to her. Harley huffed and sat up, taking the plate from him. She sank her teeth into the bread and chewed roughly. Tears leaked out of her eyes and she wanted to sob, but choking wasn't that appealing to her. MD wiped them away.

"You should get some sleep after this," MD said, "You're body's been through a traumatic event."

Harley nodded as she took another bite. "Okay."

MD noticed the tattered book on her table and he picked it up. It had no cover, and the pages were an antique color. "It's _Les Miserables,_ it's one of my favorites. I'm planning on reading _Lolita_ next. I did read _The Great Gatsby_ before this, and I must say it's complete crap."

"You read a lot." MD observed, flipping the pages in the book.

"Well, I am a writer, a song writer to be more specific."

"Really, what do you play?" MD asked.

"Guitar, I've been playing it since I was fourteen. I learned how to play piano a few years ago." Harley said, taking bites out of her sandwich. "I was always musical as a kid, Kurt Cobain, Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin-they all inspired me to embrace my musical talent."

"I'm more of a classical man." MD replied proudly.

Harley gave a weak smile as she took another bite. "I can play _Clair de Lune_ and _Moonlight Sonata_ very well, if I do say so myself."

"I would love to hear that sometime." Harley at the last bite of her food and she placed the plate on the drawer next to her. "I'm going to leave you so you can sleep." Harley nodded as she put herself under the blankets. MD collected the dish as he walked to the wall to hit the lights.

"MD?" Harley whispered, shutting her blue eyes.

"Yes, Harley?"

"Thank you, for everything."

MD smiled as he opened the door, he got one last look at the girl. "Any time."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

MD sat at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of water. It was about two or three in the morning and The Joker still hadn't come back. It's not that MD was worried, The Joker came and went as he pleased, and in fact he would be gone for days at a time. It's more he wanted to initiate conversation with him, and MD couldn't sleep to save his life. The tattered copy of Harley's book was in his hands, she had been asleep for hours already. He could see why she loved it so much.

The door opened and MD snapped his eyes from his book. The Joker walked over to the fridge and opened the door and pulled out the orange juice, popping the cap open and began to chug the liquid.

"Enjoy your time?"

The Joker rolled his eyes, "What are you, my father?"

"Sometimes I feel that way, Jack." MD sighed, "You did a lot of damage to her."

The Joker drummed his fingers against the counter and pursed his lips displeasingly. He didn't make eye contact with MD.

"We talked about our pasts, she mentioned you." MD placed the book down on the table, "She told me how you were her best friend."

He scoffed, taking another swig. "Those children playing don't _exist_. I became a liberator, and _she _became a whore."

MD scowled at him, "You're also a murder, thief, and rapist. Compared to you she's an angel."

"She _is_ an angel." The Joker murmured, his eyes were distant. "She's always been my angel. Ellie was this shining star."

MD's face was confused. "Ellie?"

The Joker sighed, shaking his head. "She changed her name I suppose, Eleanor Harleen Quinzel. I remember when I first saw her in the club she looked radiant," The Joker's voice was beginning to fade, and a new one took to form. MD hadn't heard this before, but it was shocking to say the least, "I didn't really recognize her at first, she looked so _sad_. I guess that's why I was attracted to her off the bat. But when I went into her apartment I found a picture of Ellie and me. It hit me like a ton of bricks, I couldn't believe it was her…"

"I guess things change, don't they?" MD sighed, stood up and walked away. The Joker stood their with his thoughts.


	12. I'm Nothing

**Author's Note: Hey everyone. So if this chapter seems a little lame I'm sorry, I'm a bit down in the dumps because I have to miss a Bob Dylan concert. If you're wondering, I've grown up on Bob Dylan and he's my favorite singer. So enjoy hopefully. Oh, and an FYI, I had a good idea for another story. Should I go through with it? Managing two would be hard but hell, I think it would be worth it. **

**Okay, review please, it makes me feel less bad.**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Somebody somewhere might be something  
But everybody everywhere  
Knows that I'm nothin'  
Politics and dirty tricks  
I got no time for stones and sticks  
Politics and dirty tricks  
I got no time I'm chasing chicks  
I'm nothin'_

Violent Femmes; I'm Nothing

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"_Jesus Christ, __**stop**__." Ellie growled, slapping Jack's hand._

_ Jack had taken on the task of continually pinching Ellie over and over again. He stared out the building casually, and reached out to pinch her arm. She growled in frustration as she slapped the back of his head. Jack gave her a menacing look, but there was humor in his eyes._

_ "What?"_

_ "Oh shut up, stop pinching me you…you…JERK." Ellie was flustered that he pretended he was the innocent one in this game of his._

_ Jack feigned shock, "Why Ellie, that is not nice."_

_ Ellie glared as she went to smack him again, but Jack caught her hand. She tried to wiggle free but he had an iron grip. Ellie squirmed, jerking her caught wrist violently, but he didn't budge. She laughed nervously._

_ "You been hitting the weights, Jack?"_

_ He smirked, leaning down to her. "Why yes, thank you for noticing." He gripped her tighter. _

_ "Ow, J-J-Jack you're hurting me." Ellie stammered fearfully. Jack only squeezed tighter. Ellie gasped, the pain becoming more intense. "Stop it." She whispered. Jack's eyes no longer contained humor, but something darker brewing in his brown orbs. There was something inside him that he felt. He liked seeing her struggle, he liked hurting her. He was gone, a new form had taken over._

_ In a quick move, Ellie's hand connected with the side of Jack's face. She slapped him, hard. Jack was stunned for a moment, then he realized what he was doing. He was shocked, this was Ellie for God's sake. His grip loosened and she immediately cradled her injured arm. Bright red rings circled her wrists. Ellie gave him this look of fear, and small tears fell from her eyes._

_ "Ellie…I'm…I should go." Jack grabbed onto the fire escape and began to climb. The iron groaned under his weight as he made his way up to his apartment. The wind whipped her hair as Jack reached the top and climbed inside his window. Ellie leaned against the black metal railing as she looked into the city. The view disappointed her._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley woke up with a sore body and a splitting headache. She groaned, lifting her body up vertebrate by vertebrate. Her face felt like heavy weight on her neck. She swung her legs over her bed and dragged herself to the bathroom. When she saw her reflection she had to hold back a scream. Her face was swollen with black and purple. Knots were placed randomly across her forehead, her face was swollen to the maximum. She could see the bruises on her body as she began to roll up her clothes.

She brushed out her mess of hair and popped a few pain pills. She peaked through the window, it was still muggy and rainy. It felt early though, maybe about six in the morning. Quietly, she walked down the hall and tip toed down the stairs. The oven greeted her with the glow of six twelve. So she was right…Harley walked into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Harley found a pack of cigarettes on the counter and she grabbed them. She turned on the burner, the flame danced to life. She leaned down carefully, pulling her hair back, and lighting it.

Harley sucked in the toxic fumes. Years of drug use had probably destroyed her internal organs, her lungs were last. She was trying to quit though, but when your quitting cold turkey cigarettes helped her somewhat. Harley cherished the buzz she received as she leaned against the counter. The house was totally silent, the sound of thunder rumbled throughout the house.

Harley poured herself a cup of hot coffee and opened the door. Dark thunder clouds hovered over Gotham City, ready to cast a down pour. Freezing wind whipped her hair around as lightening flashed through the air. The smell of rain had already begun to fill her nostrils. She saw a single drop hit the pavement, and others began to fall. In fact, it began to just pour down rain. Thunder rumbled and light flashed through the air, the rain came heavier.

The sound of pitter pattering rain hit everything, boxes, trashcans, the roof above her head, it touched every surface in the city. Harley stuck her hand out, and ice cold droplets hit her hand, slowly rolling of her skin and falling to the ground. She retrieved her hand and sipped her coffee daintily, letting the sweet, uplifting brew warm her throat.

Harley heard dull footsteps from the floor above. She assumed it was MD, considering no one really got up at this hour. Harley made him a cup of coffee, black like he liked it. She waited patiently for her friend to arrive. She did little things to keep herself occupied, swirled her coffee cup, paced back and forth between the door and table, things like that.

But MD walked down the stairs, instead a painted clown man in a tacky purple and green suit. Harley froze, she was alone with him again. Her first thought was to run away, to just get the Hell away from there. But what would that do? He was probably faster than her, most definitely stronger. So what if he tried to hurt her? Fighting back made it worse the last time. Harley stood frozen, not sure whether to run or throw a punch.

He saw her for the first time after what happened. He had expected her to look better than that. Harley began to slowly back into the corner of the kitchen with a mug of steaming coffee in hand. She was like a frightened animal, ready to shed her claws and pounce if needed to. The Joker walked over to the coffee pot with a perfect poker face. He took a mug out of the cupboard and poured himself a cup. He leaned against the counter and sipped quietly. Harley was still in her corner, waiting to see his next move.

The tension was so thick you would have to cut it with a saw. Every second seemed to slow down on the clock, every raindrop that hit the window seemed to come farther and farther apart, and the sound of Harley's breathing came slower and slower. The Joker sat down his empty mug and sighed, licking his lip, the taste of paint and coffee landing on his tongue. He turned to Harley with an all too pleasant grin.

"Now Harley, are you still _worked up_ about yesterday?" He took a step towards her, but she held her ground. Harley's eyes burned with a raging fire that could make Satan himself jealous. She noticed a knife rack next to her and swiped a menacing looking blade. Harley pointed it at him, ready to use.

"Don't fuck with me." She hissed.

The Joker laughed chillingly as he took another step. "Isn't _that _cute. The wittle bunny thinks she can take on the big bad wolf, hmm?" He asked mockingly, cocking his head to the side.

"She probably can't, but I wouldn't advise sinking your teeth into her."

The two snapped their heads over to MD, who was leaning against the open area to the den. The Joker glared at him, and Harley gazed into the eyes of the man. He held an expression of some sort, a message he was trying to communicate with. Harley looked at The Joker, who was distracted with MD, and the door, which was totally unlocked and cracked so she could barely see the outside. At that moment, Harley understood his message, and as he turned to him, Harley jetted out the door.

The ice cold rain hit her quickly and lightly coated her clothes as she turned the corner. She ran down the street, her feet splashing the water around her and the freezing water staining the bottom of her jeans. She heard a man shout, a roar to be more specific. It filled her with fear but she just kept _running._ She used the fear in her heart to keep her going, because if she just continued she had the possibility of being safe.

The Joker was about to run outside when he stopped short. His make up, if she saw his face it would be all over. He growled in frustration as the rain mocked him by pouring faster. He turned to MD, who had a twinkle in his eyes.

"Well don't just stand there _go get her_!" He screamed.

MD kept his cool. "What am I, one of your goons? I'm a doctor for God's sake. Besides I have asthma."

The Joker snarled as he busted down the door to a goon's room. He grabbed him and threw him out of bed, giving him instructions. The man nodded as he scampered out of the room and into the kitchen, where MD stood. He smirked at him as Marcus stumbled out the door, feeling the freezing rain touch his head. He remembered what his boss had said and took a left out of the alleyway.

Harley guessed she was about five blocks away before she was finally wheezing for air. She had taken as many twists and turns as she could think of. She finally realized what she had done, that she was a woman, in the middle of the ghetto, with no money, and no weapon. She pressed her back against the cold brick building as she looked up at the street sign. West 69th Street and Poplar Avenue.

_Poplar Avenue_…wait, she knew where she was! Harley laughed as she ran to the right. Harley slowed down to a fast paced walk, looking around frantically, hoping she was right. And like a light shining down from heaven, she saw the run down apartment building. A few windows were boarded up, the paint really had to be re-done, and a few bricks were missing. Harley ran up to the front and clicked on the middle buzzer frantically.

"Yeah, what who is it?"

"Talulah, it's me, it's Harley."

Talulah paused for a moment. "Harley? I thought you had business for a week-"

"Talulah, listen to me. Please, just let me in." Harley said slowly.

The buzzer rang and Harley opened the door. The air smelled of old Chinese food, antiques, and urine. As she walked up the stairs, every floor board creaked loudly. She rushed up the stairs and walked up to 4A, knocking violently. Talulah opened up and her mouth dropped open at the sight of her friend. Rage bubbled inside her and boiled over like a kettle of water.

"Who the _fuck_ did this to you? Oh Hell no, I am gonna-"

Harley shoved her inside and slammed the door shut, locking all four deadbolts. She sighed thankfully, giddy inside that she was away from him. It hurt to smile but she did it anyway as she placed her back against the door. Talulah had her hair swept up into a black clip, her clothing consisted of sweatpants and a tank top. She had on zero make up, and Harley could see the scar next to her eyebrow.

"Harley, answer me. Who the _Hell_ did _that_ to you?" Talulah demanded, pointing to her face. Harley felt upset that she was being a bit insensitive to her face, not to mention Talulah had _no_ idea what had happened to her in the past days. Harley ignored the outburst though and sighed.

"Okay, you ever see that clown guy on the TV?" Harley asked, walking over to the open windows and shutting the blinds.

Talulah looked at her in confusion as she began to lock up her house. "Uh, yeah."

"Well, the last time I was in the club he was there-"

"You're kidding me!"

"No, I'm not. So he pays me _one thousand dollars_ to sleep with him in the back of his car. We agreed on seven hundred but he gave me extra. A few days later on my break I go out to see Dr. Sides. A few minutes after I get back, there's a knock at my door. It's a delivery boy with a package. I'm like, okay, whatever it's just a package. But then he says I don't have to sign anything, which is odd. I open it up it's this _beautiful_ dress, I mean Lulu this is top notch! Inside is a note telling me I'll be picked up at a certain time to go to dinner. It's signed by Mr. J.

"I go to where they instructed me to go, and I'm blindfolded. I have no idea where I am. So a little while later we appear at this warehouse looking thing. At the dinner table he offers me twenty four grand to stay with him for two weeks. It's twenty four grand, I can't pass that up. So I accept and things went well…until the next morning. He was really violent and rough, not to mention demanding. Then he started hitting me and today I ran away."

Talulah stood there, taking all of this in. She breathed in, pinching the bridge of her nose. Talulah didn't want to be involved in all of this, she had left a life of drama and crime in Queens. She leaned against the wall and looked off, trying to think of what to do.

"Harley, this all to much for me-"

"Talulah, please I'm begging you. I don't have anywhere else to go-"

"I have a kid Harley!" Talulah lied, "I can't be getting into any of this, okay?" Talulah opened a side table drawer and pulled out a big wad of money, "It's three fifty, okay? Take it, buy a hotel room, get some clothes, something to eat-"

"Please." Harley whispered, tears filling her eyes. She walked towards her friend, who had opened the door.

"I'm sorry Harley, I really am. Please, take care of yourself. There's a quiet motel down the road, take Tyson and Kings, it has a big sign, you can't miss it."

Harley was in a dazed state, all the time she had known Talulah she had always been there to support her. But now her own friend was backing out on her. Harley took the money numbly and walked out the door, turning behind her. Their eyes met as Talulah started to close the door, she cracked it when her face was barely visible.

"Take care of yourself Harley," Were the last words she heard before Talulah shut the door.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"What do you mean, _you can't find her?_" The Joker snarled at the poor, quivering man. Marcus cowered in the kitchen as the crazed clown towered over him. He had never seen his boss this mad, not even when Jerry shot him, poor bastard…

"I-I'm sorry b-b-boss, I looked everywhere for her, sir. Me and Rick took the van all over The Narrows and-"

"Did you think of checking hotels? _Her apartment_? Maybe that strip club that she works at, hm?" The Joker growled, taking a step towards him.

Marcus was about to puke. "No-No-No sir."

The Joker looked at him mockingly. "You look kind of nervous Marcus." He flicked out his knife. "Maybe you should _smile_ more."


	13. Sex Changes

**Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter sucks, I have a horrible toothache. It's being pulled in a few days, so there will be a delay of some sorts. **

**Thanks to keepyourselfalive for that awesome review. ;D**

**I have mind control powers REVIEW THIS STORY.**

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_Today's a very special day  
The boys'll murder for it but what will the neighbors say  
It leaves you feeling pretty hollow  
It might be nice to look at  
Don't forget you're stuck with it tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow_

You're big enough to stop pretending  
You'll start to really show within a week or so  
So don't go saying it's just come to your attention  
You'll get more than you're asking for without the right protection

-The Dresden Dolls; Sex Changes

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

The print of old seventies wallpaper was giving Harley a dizzying headache. There was a clinkering piece of junk for a heater that hummed way too loudly. Harley was still soaking wet, and the chill in the room wasn't helping, she was shivering. The man before her was a man of his sixties, with a large body, gray hair, a protruding jaw, and thick glasses. There was a wall of glass separating them, with a small hole on the bottom, protecting him from her. This part of town slowly coming out of The Narrows, but it was still a risky neighborhood, with a pretty high crime rate.

"Ma'am?"

Harley turned her attention to the man before her. She looked at him steadily. She noticed he was looking all over her bruised skin, his face gawking with open staring. Harley saw his silent judging in those small grey eyes. She cleared her throat, pulling him away from his judging gaze.

"I'd like a room for the night."

"What kind?"

"Single." Harley responded.

"Alright it's thirty five for tonight, and if you stay another it's thirty." He slid a clip board under the glass. "Sign there."

Harley pulled out the money from her soaking pocket. The bills were damp and limp, but still money was money. She slid the green bills under the glass. The gray haired man counted it, and paused when he counted it all. He looked at Harley, confused with her motives.

"That says, you never saw my face." Harley whispered.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Elisa Harrison," She replied, signing the fake signature.

"Now is that your real name or fake one?" The man asked with a smirk.

Harley's face was serious as she glared at him. "You ask too many questions."

The man's face dropped and he took on a somber mood. He handed Harley the keys to the room. Harley walked out the door and into the pouring rain. She ran to her room, which was labeled on the key, unlocking it and going inside. The room was semi-warm and smelled of over powering air freshener. She turned on the lights and began to inspect the place. The mattress was stiff, the blanket old, the bathroom was pretty alright clean, and the TV got local channels. It wasn't so bad, she thought.

Harley's stomach rumbled and she sighed, thinking of what to do. She saw produce store up the road, and a super market near it. She dreaded going back into the rain, but it didn't seem like she had an option. Harley shut off the lights and locked the door behind her. The rain fell onto her quickly as she made her way up the road.

Bright lights and automatic sliding doors greeted her as she walked into the market. Shoppers droned on mindlessly getting what they needed. Harley immediately noticed the clothing section and she made her way over there, she grabbed a few articles of clothing, three shirts, two pairs of pants, and a set of pajamas. Not to mention a pack of undies.

As she tried on the clothing, Harley's nerves finally started getting to her. What if he knew where she was? What if he was at her hotel room, waiting patiently to slit her throat? Harley felt as if he was going to bust down the door any moment and she would be dragged out. Harley's actions finally caught up with her, did she not realize what he might do if she even _thought_ about running off?

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

The Joker paced around his room, thinking of what to do. He tapped his chin with his sharp knife, taking long strides back and forth across the floors. He had just cleaned Marcus' blood off of his knife. He smirked as he thought back to when he saw the sharp blade cut into the flesh of his cheeks, the young man's scream, and the light that faded from his eyes was the most beautiful symphony.

The Joker sat down on his bed, the mattress bounced with his weight. He scratched the side of his face and paused. Small amounts of stubble lined his skin and he grumbled, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He hated shaving, it was his number one pet peeve. He closed his knife and placed it in his pocket, walking into the bathroom. He switched on the light and plugged the sink, letting water fill it up. He applied a generous amount of water to his skin until all paint had mixed into the swirl of colors in the sink.

He grabbed a can of shaving cream and squirted the white, fluffy foam into the palm of his hand. He applied it greatly, rubbing it especially on his scars. They were the hardest to shave, all the ridges and bumps were cut easily. He washed off his hand and grabbed his razor, dipping it into the warm water. He brought it up to his face and slowly bring it down the surface. He was careful not to go too fast, in fear he would knick himself.

Slowly globs of shaving cream and particles of hair landed on the surface of the water, which dissolved into the water below him. Skin began to appear smooth with every stroke of the razor. As he finished, he gave himself a look, turning his head both ways, making sure he got every inch. He seemed satisfied because he unplugged the water plug and let it all drain down the sink.

The Joker walked out of the bathroom, and came face to face with MD, who was sitting on his bed. The Joker leaned against the door way coolly, waiting for the man before him to make the first move. MD sighed, standing on his feet now. "So what are you going to do?"

The Joker smirked, his nails suddenly becoming interesting. He hadn't clipped them in a while. "I'm going to find her, _of course_." He said in an obvious tone of voice, looking at MD like an idiot.

"How?"

He smirked, standing up straight and walking around him. "I have inside sources, MD. I know just about everyone in this…_damned city_." He walked over to the window, watching the rain his the glass like small bullets. It looked even drearier with all the dark clouds and rain. "She's hiding somewhere in here, I don't think she would leave just yet. She won't rat either," He said with a smirk, "because she'd know what I'd do to her."

MD ran a hand through his neat hair. "Don't hurt her again."

The Joker rolled his eyes and turned to his colleague, giving him a look. "Why should I uh, _listen_ to you, hm?"

"Because I've seen women do this before, and when they're beaten more, they become empty shells of people who used to be there. I don't think you want Ellie in pain and suffering every time she messes up or you lose your temper."

The Joker glowered at him, setting his jaw and turning back to the window. Damn it, MD was right. He hated to admit it when he was right, and even though The Joker wanted to deny it all he wanted, deep down inside he knew he couldn't hurt her anymore. This was going to be difficult, considering Harley was the weakest, most innocent one who lived in the house. She was easy to pick on, easy to frighten and scare, easy to fuck too.

"One of my insiders thinks he saw her, I'm going to go meet with him. Now if you excuse me, MD, I'm going to put my face on."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley lay in her hotel room, munching on a bag of grapes and flipping through the channels. She had taken a shower and was in some fresh, clean clothing. At least the hotel provided little miniature shampoo bottles. They would kill her hair but Harley couldn't give a rat's ass right then. She was just concentrating on relaxing, and trying not to look at the door every ten seconds, wondering if somebody was going to bust it down any second. She had to physically pull her eyes from the door.

Harley landed on some action movie. She didn't even notice it, her mind was too far gone to do anything really. Her nerves were completely on edge as she bit into each swollen purple morsel. She tried to concentrate on the flashing lights and loud gunshots from the TV. She even tuned into the sound of rain hitting the window covered by a drape. But Harley lost herself in the door, plucking a grape delicately from the vine every few seconds.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Yeah man, I seen her."

The man before him was a homeless and was wearing a trench coat and fingerless gloves. Next to him was a shopping cart full of aluminum cans and various living objects. With each rain drop a plinking sound bounced in the air. The Joker was under a cover in the alleyway, covering his face with a large coat.

"Really now, where would that be _Manny_?"

Manny scratched his scruffy beard and looked around. "Down by dat supa' store and dat produce place. You know what I mean?"

The Joker nodded, "Yeah I know what you're talking about."

"Well that's where I saw her, man. I know there be a motel down da street from there. Called, 'Gotham City Motel' man, you can't miss it, has a big ol' sign. I'd check there for her."

The Joker smiled, pleased with his information. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills, which Manny eagerly grabbed. The homeless man counted it, making sure it was all there. He smiled goofily, saluting The Joker before her grabbed his cart and turned around, walking down alleyway, whistling a merry tune. The Joker smirked, walking around the corner to where his car was parked in an empty lot.

As he sat in his car, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He sighed, taking it out and pushing the green button, placing it next to his ear. The Joker never said anything, and if they speak didn't first he hung up immediately. You could never be too careful of who was trying to track your phone…

"Joker I know your there."

It was Maroni, The Joker sneered and rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"One of my girls has been missing for a little while now, you know anything about that?" He sounded pissed, The Joker smirked, good.

"Yeah, I know…_a lot_ about that actually."

"Don't fuck with me clown, she's one of my best. Gets me a lot of money. Now if she doesn't show up in forty eight hours you're dead."

The Joker cackled loudly, "Like you could get someone to _kill me_. I have your girl right now, but you're not getting her anytime soon."

"Why you son of a-"

"Oh can it you Italian. Listen, you wanna fight me, I dare you. Send your best man, I don't give a fuck. Just wait and see what happens."

The Joker opened the back of his phone and took out the small SIM card in the back of the cellular device. He took the puny object and smashed it against the dashboard of his car. The screen cracked and the buttons sunk into it. His rage and frustration caught up to him and he began to hit it harder and harder against dashboard. When he was done, the car was scratched and his phone had been obliterated to nothing.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Across town a woman sat at a window, sitting in a soft chair. The window was cracked as she smoked her cigarette. She watched the raindrops drip inside, some being blocked out by the weak glass and others barely slipping by inside. She inhaled smoke and exhaled the white cloud of dancing exhaust. People scurried along before her and all she did was watch them run around.

A girl of ten walked into the dirty den. She was pretty, with olive skin and long dark hair, in fact she was a spitting image of her mother. On her small body was a large brace that covered the top of her chest to the bottom of her stomach. She leaned against the doorframe, watching her mother stare at into the world. That's what her mom did most of these days, just stare the day away. A vibration of thunders caused the lights to falter for a moment.

"Momma, è il momento per la mia medicina." The young girl murmured.

The woman turned to her, but the small girl only saw half of her face. A trail of smoke left her full lips. She flicked ash into the small tray and inhaled again. The ten year old was confused of why her mother wouldn't answer her.

"Di già? Non mi rendevo conto che fosse così tardi." She whispered. The mother looked at her child with a small smile. "Vieni qui Cynthia, andiamo il medicinale per voi."

Cynthia and her mother walked into the bathroom, her mother took the pills from the cabinet and filled up a glass of water for her daughter. The pills were quite large and difficult for Cynthia to swallow, put it made her stronger. Cynthia placed the large ovals on her tongue and took a chug of water, struggling to swallow. Eventually, with some encouragement from her mother, she got them down. Her mother patted her head and the two went their separate ways.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Momma, è il momento per la mia medicina."-Momma, it's time for my medicine.


	14. Ballad of a Thin Man

**Author's Note: Review! And bust out the translator. **

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_You raise up your head  
And you ask, "Is this where it is ?"  
And somebody points to you and says  
"It's his"  
And you says, "What's mine ?"  
And somebody else says, "Where what is ?"  
And you say, "Oh my God  
Am I here all alone ?"_

Bob Dylan; Ballad of a Thin Man

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

MD looked at the chair before him with his steaming cup of coffee in hand. It was empty, like it had been for the past two days. He remembered how he and Harley would talk in the mornings. His worry for her grew everyday and it was beginning to engulf him. MD drummed his fingers on the table and sighed, looking around the room, as if he was going to expect her any moment.

He heard the vibration of footsteps coming down the stairs and there was his boss, putting on his jacket. The Joker said nothing until he reached the coffee pot, he could not function without the feeling of caffeine pumping through his veins. He poured himself a cup, black as always, and sipped the hot brew. The two made eye contact and MD drummed his fingers again.

"You find her?"

The Joker smirked, "A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You've said that for the past two days. Would you give me a straight answer for once? I'm worried about her beyond belief."

He laughed, holding his side, the sound threatening to wake everyone in the house. The Joker's face suddenly became serious and he took a swig of his coffee. "Yeah, I found her. Staying at some low end motel, been there the entire time. I thought she was smarter than that really-"

"But I imagine she's never beaten to oblivion and then stalked."

The Joker ignored his comment, "I mean I was expecting some kind of chase, ya know?" He shrugged taking another sip, "Oh well."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley lay on her bed, instructions for temporary hair dye was splayed out on her bed. She looked at the black goo in the small clear package. Harley collected her items and walked into the bathroom. Her shirt fell to the ground, no way in hell this would ruin it. She put on the gloves and squeezed the goo into her hand, rubbing it together gently. For a moment she didn't know how to attack the situation, but decided to just go for. With a wild fury, Harley rubbed the protect through her blond locks.

When she was sure it was spread out evenly, she placed her hair in a clip and snapped the gloves off, grabbing a copy of _Rolling Stones_ magazine. As she was reading an article about AC/DC, Harley felt the chemicals began to settle in and burn her scalp. She squirmed uncomfortably, gritting her teeth to even out the pain. The minutes ticked by slowly and all she could think about was showering it all off.

After an eternity the clock hand ticked on the twenty two and Harley put down her magazine and shed her clothing, stepping into the shower with the conditioner in the package. The warm water hit her skin, making her sigh in relaxation. She worked the product in her hair, letting it set for a moment, and then rinsing it out. Quickly, she turned off the knobs and grabbed the white hotel towel. She stepped out of the shower, holding back a gasp as she looked in the mirror.

It wasn't horrible, but it was just so _different_. Harley was a natural blond, and she had gone all the way down the scale. At least her eyebrows were darker, so it didn't look so off. Harley breathed in as she picked up a pair of scissors. Her hair had always parted down the middle and it had been that way for years. She grabbed the front of her hair and pulled it down, brining the scissors to her hair. Shakily, she cut only a smidge. A long strand of hair dropped, falling to the ground and landing on her toe.

She smiled, the feeling of empowerment washing her. She cut just a little bit more, but at an angle. As she finished she looked at her reflection closely and smiled. Her new bangs parted on the left side of her face. There was always a need for change in her life the past few years, and Harley knew she found a piece of it. A new hairstyle was what she needed to feel free. She was in control this time, not anyone else. Her eyes met the mirror once again.

It wasn't horrible, but it was just so _different._

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

A clock ticked in the background of The Joker's office. He sat in a chair, his hands folded on the table in front of him. He had the look of seriousness on his features, concentrating on the man before him, who was gabbing away about some new formula he had made. Jonathan Crane wasn't wearing his mask, which was neatly placed in his lap, but opted for his wire frame glasses. He noticed The Joker really wasn't listening.

"But enough about that, down to business." The smooth doctor said, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, well a little birdie chirped to me you were planning on selling The Chechen some of the good stuff."

Jonathan smirked, noticing the gleam in the man's eye. He leaned toward him with a devious smile. "Perhaps."

The Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out a single vile of innocent looking clear liquid. "_This_ will turn any man insane, I've had a few…lab mice. They start seeing things, they go _crazy._ I've seen the toughest men break down and sob like a little girl."

Dr. Crane was interested now. "Really? And why exactly do you want me to sell this to him?"

The Joker smiled a toothy smile, revealing his yellow teeth. "To cause a little…anarchy."

Jonathan played the idea inside his head, dipping his head back and forth with the idea. He smirked at him, taking the vile. "Deal."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley stared at the pay phone before her. She held it in her hand and the quarters had already slipped past the coin slot. She tapped the top of the box and sighed, wondering if she could even go through with it. She pulled her jacket tighter as the wind whipped around her body. People walked past her casually, not even noticing her. Whatever, she already put her money in the slot, no turning back now. Harley dialed the number she had memorized.

After a few rings, a husky voice laced deep with an Italian accent answered, "Hello?"

"Momma? Ehm ... sono io, Ellie." She said nervously into the phone.

"Ellie?" The woman said in disbelief. "E 'stato un po' che ti ha chiamato."

Harley sighed into the phone. "Sì, lo so mamma, mi dispiace che sia passato così tanto tempo."

The woman hummed in curiosity. "Cosa sta succedendo? Sembri ... " She tried to look for the right word, "nervoso."

"Mamma, lo so che è stato un po 'che non ci vediamo a vicenda, ma ... ho bisogno del vostro aiuto."

The woman was taken aback for a moment, her daughter never called her, even when she was in trouble. In fact this was the first time in seven months she had heard from Harley, unless you counted the checks she sent them.

"Che cosa avete bisogno, tesoro?" She asked, lighting a cigarette on the line. Harley could hear her suck in a breath and breath out.

"Un posto dove stare, solo per una notte o due al massimo." Harley said, running her fingers through her new black hair.

The woman smiled on the other line. "Va bene, Cynthia è stata voglia di vederti comunque. Lei mi chiede sempre: "Quando è Ellie sta per venire a vedere noi?""

Harley laughed, "Beh dirle che sto per tornare a casa e trovarla. In realtà, ho intenzione di portarle un regalo."

Her mother sucked on her cigarette, "Grazie Ellie."

"Ogni volta che Momma, ci vediamo tra un'ora." Harley hung up the phone and smiled a little bit. That was probably the most pleasant conversation she's ever had with her mother. Though, ever since she had Cynthia she had more of a spring in her step. Sometimes it pained Harley, she wondered why she never got that affection from her mother, she just got the rough end. But Harley had come to peace with her childhood, and in her late teens, her and her mother had begun to make amends.

Harley began to walk towards the bus stop, her things in a cheap tote bag. She noticed a toy store a few buildings up. Harley had gotten a bus schedule and they were riding into her mother's neighborhood. Of course she had wondered whether or not to call in the first place. Considering Talulah had turned her back on her, she needed somewhere to stay, and Harley didn't have too many friends.

She walked into the shop, which was alive with children. Toys were on every inch of the entire store. She smiled as a group of children ran buy her, two boys playing with toy guns. She looked around for little girls, considering they would be gushing at the dolls. This guy really had everything, from electronic robots to classic pull string ducks and everything in between. She saw colorful kites that lined the skies and carpets with a race track stitched in. As she neared the back, she gasped as she saw lines of porcelain dolls lining the walls.

Harley walked up to them, touching one with a princess dress. The silk material touched her fingers and she smiled, walking down the rows. There was just so many, it was over whelming. She wasn't sure of which one Cynthia would like the most. Harley noticed a nice looking doll in a kimono dress and a white painted face, and then immediately frowned when she noticed the red lips and black eye make up…

"They're beautiful aren't they?"

Harley jumped at the voice and turned around. There was a very tall man with snow white hair and big, thick glasses. His face was old and sagging, but there was youth in his large grey eyes. Harley chuckled, turning back to the pretty faced dolls.

"Yes, they are."

"I think it took me about two years to make this collection. Of course, these things just fly off the shelf." Harley turned to him in curiosity and the man stuck out his hand, "Oliver Silverman, owner."

She shook his hand, noticing the firm grip, "Harley, hopeful buyer." Harley turned back to the dolls. "I just don't know which one she would want…"

"Is it for your daughter?"

"Oh no! It's for my little sister." She laughed.

"How old is she?"

"Ten, and loves dolls. She has all the princess and story porcelains, but I'm looking at something different."

Mr. Silverman thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. He smiled at her, "Down here, I know the perfect one." Harley had to take wider steps to follow his long legs. The walked all the way at the end of the wall and Mr. Silverman reached to the third to top and pulled down a small doll.

She was a petite girl, with short blond hair that spiked at the edges. Her face was sharp and elfin, with full round lips. Her eyes looked to the side and were a dazzling lavender. Her dress was a forest green that spread out like a ballerina outfit and she had these boots that reached her knees and pointed ever so gently. But the most beautiful part were her intricate fairy wings, that swirled into a mosaic butterfly shape with a slight edge. Harley smiled as he handed her the doll.

"She's perfect."

Mr. Silverman smiled, "Good, now let's ring you up."

After paying twenty five bucks for the pretty little fairy Mr. Silverman delicately wrapped her in thin paper and placed her in a box with the toy store's logo. He taped it down, making sure it didn't fall off. Mr. Silverman placed her in a brown paper bag, handed it to her, and wished her a nice day as she walked out.

Harley sat on the bench that was next to the bus stop sign. In one hand was her gift and in the other was her bag of things. Harley fished out change for bus fare, considering she was disorganized to no end. She leaned against the wooden frame, looking up at the muggy sky. A wind whipped her dark hair around and she collected it in her hand. It was still so weird, and every time she whipped her head around she had to push those bangs out of her eyes.

Harley heard a heavy engine roll down the street and she looked out. The big sad elephant barely trudged down the street and she would believe if it was pieced together with bubble gum and duct tape. Harley stood as the thing rolled up with a big sigh, opening its doors to her. Harley stepped on, placing in the bus fare and taking an empty seat. The bus had a few people on it, a couple, a man reading the news, and a dirty looking guy in the back.

The drive was painfully slow as Harley anticipated seeing her mother. It had been a while, and she wondered how Cynthia's back was doing. She remembered one day when her mother called her and said that something was wrong with her. When Harley saw her, there was something a bit off about her. Six year old Cynthia's pants were disproportioned, one pant leg was normal, while the other was short. Her hip was kind of jutting out on the side. So the girls took Cynthia to the doctor, where they did an X-ray. She was diagnosed with scoliosis an hour later.

Cynthia had worn a back brace for years, trying to keep the curve from getting worse. Now, after four years of an annoying piece of plastic lining her back for four years, her mother and her sister had almost saved enough for a surgery, only one thousand dollars more. Cynthia could not be more thrilled that she was going to be corrected, she could finally be normal again.

The bus clinkered to a stop and Harley noticed the street sign. She stood, collecting her things and getting off the bus. There in front of her was a tall, brick building. She breathed in deeply, walking up to it and opening the door. Harley walked over to the old elevator, stepping into it. She placed her bags on the floor and pressed the button which buzzed as she held it, the machine going up. The bell dinged as she reached the fifth floor. Harley collected her things and walked down the hallway, going to 5E.

She raised her fist up slowly, wondering if she could go through with it. All those years of neglect was starting to pile on her. She frowned, her hand drawing back slightly. Harley didn't really want to see her mother, it made her think of the past, and Harley left the past behind her a long time ago. Harley shook her head an quickly knocked on the door.

A ten year old Cynthia opened the door with a big smile on her face. The girl attacked her sister, squeezing her in an iron grip. Harley smiled and squeezed her back, wishing she could hug her without the hard plastic between them.

"Ellie Mi sei mancato tanto! È tinto i capelli. Si sta così bene! E avete ottenuto frangetta! Mi hai anche perdere?" Cynthia was talking at a mile a minute.

Harley laughed, looking into her brown eyes. "Certo che mi sei mancato angelo! Guardati, sei cresciuto così tanto. Oh, mi hai un dono." Harley pulled the box out of the paper bag and Cynthia received it eagerly, excited at the mysterious gift. She peeled off the tape and opened the gift, gasping quietly.

"Ellie it's so pretty!" She cried, hugging her sister again. As Cynthia hugged, Harley noticed her mother in the den. She had her clasped hand in front of her and water in her eyes. Her mother had aged ten years the last time she saw her. Harley stood and the two looked at each other before the older sister walked past Cynthia.

"It is glad for you to be back." Her mother whispered.

Harley laughed, a single tear climbing down her cheek. "I'm glad to be back, Momma."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Are you sure she was in there?"

MD found the situation unusual, though if you were with a psychotic clown who was chasing after his girlfriend and demand you go in a toy store of all places, you would be a little curious about the whole situation as well.

The Joker rolled his eyes, "Just do it, someone told me she walked in here."

MD sighed, stepping out of the car and walking into the toy store. They had parked in an alleyway, considering seeing one of Gotham's most wanted wouldn't fly to well in public. It was obnoxiously loud and snot nosed kids were running everywhere. He saw an older man at the front desk and MD casually approached him.

"I'm looking for someone, my daughter when missing a few days ago."

The man's ears perked up, "Really? I'm sorry to hear. What does she look like?"

"Well, she's about five foot eight with long blond hair and blue eyes. She's twenty eight years old and with skin paler than the moon." MD described.

"I haven't seen a girl like that today I'm sorry. Though…a girl with _black_ hair came in today, said she went by Harley."

MD was celebrating inside but kept his composure, "Did she say where she was headed?"

"She bought a fairy doll for her sister and I believe she took the bus." The old man said, thinking back.

MD shook his head, "I don't think that was her, but thank you for your time." Without another word MD all but ran out the store and into the alleyway, a joyous feeling inside him. She wasn't dead or hurt, but trying to be smart. He jumped in the car and shut the door, a small smile on his face.

"_Well_?" The Joker inquired.

"She dyed her hair black. Bought a doll for her sister apparently."

The Joker wore a confused expression. "Ellie didn't have a sister."

MD thought for a moment before shrugging. "You never know, you did vanish off the face of the earth."

The Joker sighed and started the car. "Don't remind me." He thought for a second, "It's odd that she's visiting her mother though." MD looked at him. "She hated her mother."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Harley and her mother sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in each of their hands. Cynthia sat on the floor, playing with her new doll. The two women said nothing, just sat there sipping tea awkwardly. It was interesting how these visits always worked, Harley would come over and her mother really wouldn't say anything while Cynthia just tried to be a kid. Her mother cleared her throat and turned to Cynthia, a fake smile on her face.

"Cynthia, giocare perché non andare con la tua nuova bambola in camera per un minuto?"

Cynthia wanted to protest but instead she took her doll to her room with a defeated sigh, leaving the two women to talk alone. She sat on her bed and touched her soft hair and wings, wondering what it was like to fly. Cynthia could just fly away from her brace one day, she would just leave it behind.

"What happen to your face?" Her mother asked.

Harley sighed, touched her bruised skin. She smiled uncomfortably before taking another sip of her tea. "I was being paid twenty four grand to stay with a trick for two weeks. I thought it would pay the rest of Cynthia's surgery but…Momma ha ottenuto così arrabbiato."

Her mother patted her hands quietly. "I understand what you go through." She sighed, shaking her head, "You should have played your music, you did so good making the songs. Ellie, you love it so much, and then a day came you not want to do music anymore."

Harley bowed her head in submission, not wanting to argue. But her mother sighed, realizing what she had said. "I do appreciate what you do. You pay for bills so I not have to work. Siamo donne Ellie, si soffre e che stiamo subendo. Questo è tutto ciò che possiamo fare."

Harley laughed, a single tear weeping out of her eye. She wiped it away, trying to hide it. Her mother smiled at her, taking a sip of tea. "You turn your hair black. I like it."

"Grazie Momma."

Harley slept in Cynthia's room that night, her small body attaching to her older sibling. Her sister smelled like shampoo and grape juice. She hugged her small body, wishing once again she could feel her through that damned brace. Harley missed nights like this, where she could just lay here and bond with her sister.

In the morning, the family was alive with chatter, laughing and sharing stories. This was probably the best visit Harley had ever had with her family. Her mother cooked a large breakfast and the two girls helped. Cynthia and her sister built a fort of kitchen chairs, pillows, and blankets. They played with her dolls and watched morning cartoons together.

Then Harley realized she had to move again, that she would have to go from location to location. So with regret in her heart Harley announced her departure. Cynthia begged her not to leave, to just stay a little while longer. But Harley explained that right now she had to go, but promised she would be back soon. When Cynthia was about to fight, her mother held her back, explaining that her sister was trying to find a job and had to get to a very important interview. She walked out the door with hugs and good blessings on her back.

MD sighed as The Joker parked his car next to the apartment building. He looked up at the sad looking building and back at his counterpart. "Are you sure this is it?"

The Joker looked at the slip of paper he had written all his information on and back at the building. "Pretty sure." He turned to the two goons in the back, who were sporting clown masks. "Okay, here's what you're going to do. Since the bus route is out there," The Joker pointed in front of him, "then our target should come in the back. So…when she get's close bust out of the back, grab her, bag her, and throw her in the car…got it?"

The duo nodded.

"Good, now we wait."

Harley walked outside the apartment building, looking around. According to the bus schedule, the one across the alley should be going out of Gotham, which would probably be her best bet. She began to make her way down, when she noticed a white van sitting there. She stopped, eyeing it carefully. She didn't notice any movement, but would he try to kidnap her? Harley rolled her eyes, she was being ridiculous. With her head held tall, Harley made her way down.

It all happened fast as she was feet away from the van. The door busted open and two men in clown masks snatched her. One shoved a black bag over her head while the other threw a pair of handcuffs on her. Harley screamed, kicking her legs violently as they tossed her in the van. She hit the floor hard with a groan, squirming around. The sound of heavy boots coming in the back and the presence of two bodies caught her attention. She heard a familiar laugh, chills and the urge to vomit consumed her.

"Did ya…_miss me_ beautiful?" The Joker said in between laughs.


End file.
